The Chicken Box

 

Was it love at first sight ?
Or love at first bite?
Didn’t need to see your breast or your thigh,
Deeper the love the deeper you fried,
Killing me softly,
The root of my demise,
Salt pepper ketchup lay you next to some fries,
Wash you down with half and half,
You a nigga better half,
No matter if I find you in the heart of ghettos,
Or you supermarket fresh,
Watch them flour your flesh,
Light the stove let you soak in the oil,
I think you got me spoiled,
Always on call when the hunger strikes,
Even though they tell me high blood pressure follows,
I take another bite,
To tell the truth,
You my worst enemy,
They tell me to dodge gunshots,
But my killer is this chicken box.

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