Thats just what niggers do! Yo!

Uh, lawd lawd yall
What Im gonna do? (What Im gonna do?)
Uh, shhh, lawd lawd yall
Shit is all true

[Verse 1: NaS]

Mmm, Fried chicken
Fly vixen
Give me
Heart Disease
But need
You in my kitchen
You a bird, but you aint a key
Got wings but you cant fly away from me
Driving in your bucket seats
All the way from Kentucky
To f**k with me
Look what you done to me
Was number one to me!
After you shower
You and your gold medal flour
Then you rub on hot oil for bout a half an hour
You in your hot tub, Im looking at you salivating
Dry you off, I got your paper towel waiting
Lay you down cause youre red hot
Louisiana style you make my head rock
Then I flock
To the bed then, "Plop"
When we done, I need rest
Dont know a part of you that I love best
Your legs or your breast
Misses Fried Chicken, you gon be a nigga death
Created by southern black women
To serve masters guest
You gon be a nigga death
Misses Fried Chicken
You was my addiction
Dripping with cholest
Like Greeks with his felafel
Or Italians with his to-mato
Or roti is to a Rasta
Trapping me
You and your friend mac and cheese
Candy yams, collard greens
But you knocking me to my knees
Its killing me when Im this high
Nothing I need more than a fish fry

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]

Shit, It taste good, I cant lie
Its like youre walking out a tanning saloon
When I pull you out the oven, from baking I got you on my mind
Rubbing that sun tan lotion all up over your body
So amazing, how you sparkle when I glaze you swine
Hey, my pretty hamhock, its so feminine
The way you submitting
And how you gave me power
To massaging me to shower
You with lemon water
Marinate you with season you dipping you in chowder
Its like you at the spa
The way you gently
Lay in the pan
While you enjoying you butter milk treatment
I sit and watch the grease sizzle bubbling
On your skin
Despite the funny fragrance
Still I lick my finger frequent
In any event
Im reflecting on all the signs saying that I got I shouldnt f**k with you
But the way you taste made it hard to resist when I put my mouth on you
But thats another issue
Butterflies up in my stomach when I laid EYES on you
Was it infection manifesting?
Confused over the feeling impatiently eating you
Trichina worm worm chewing on the walls of my intestine
Ima eat you until theres nothing left
Til my very last breath
You gon be a nigga death
Despite appearin’ the best
And specialize in
Cooking swine as a chef
You gon be a nigga death
Who cares if the swine
Is mixed with rat, cat, and dog combined?
Yes, I eat the shit to death

[Outro: Busta Rhymes]

Aint that some shit?
Ima eat some shit
Until what Im eating KILLS ME!

And I choose to do that Why?
Cause thats just what niggas do …






2 svar til “Thats just what niggers do! Yo!”

  1. ministaren Avatar

    Tjo… NaS gennembrud var trods alt verset på "Live at the BBQ"  🙂



    Charlie Bravo



  2. Mogens Bisgaard Avatar
    Mogens Bisgaard

    Er ikke den store dyrker af rap-musik (!) men så dog her en erotisk tilgang til mad, som jeg savner, og kun har set i meget få tilfælde i nyere tid … »Vel, ræk mig da, o efterår, en gravensten, som smager af bækken ved min faders gård og mulden i hans ager« er lidt langt fra Fielding

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