[Verse 1]
The virgin goes in the volcano
The merger goes through, I bet my worth will go through the chart hanger, quarterlies
Money trees is the perfect place for lynching
I kick it with your earth and take a pension
Two thousand gram herringbone stuck in your bitch throat
My baritone crushing her shit loose
I need a whole flamboyance of flamingos
Pink pussy, plus Pringles
Pussy n***as, pussy fuck three holes, she go
There goes the neighbourhood
All these n***as talking 'bout they paper but they vaporous
Watch when they catch the vapours if they shaped for this it's full of flavour rush
You should've never played with us
Then you broke half a arm playing contact, we plays it rough
This is eight Mississippi, what?
I'm on your ass, bring any n***a who rhyme, bet I make him talk
Tail-spin, Launchpad McQuack with matching pelican
Bullets crash-land on your back and bash your curls in
Sweltering

[Chorus]
Uh huh, yeah
Chicken Milk Bomb
In your air duct, on god
Fucking your head up
Once you get your bread up
Instead of bitching get some grit and get rough
Pick up and grip the stick and flare up
Uh huh, yeah
Chicken Milk Bomb
In your air duct, on god
Fucking your head up
Once you get your bread up
Instead of bitching get some grit and get rough
Pick up and grip the stick and flare up
Uh huh, yeah
Chicken Milk Bomb
In your air duct, on god
Fucking your head up
Once you get your bread up
Instead of bitching get some grit and get rough
Pick up and grip the stick and flare up
Uh huh, yeah
Chicken Milk Bomb
In your air duct, on god
Fucking your head up
Once you get your bread up
Instead of bitching get some grit and get rough
Pick up and grip the stick and flare up