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Chick Fil A Drive-Thru Rap! (With Lyrics)

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Published on Dec 20, 2011

The 3rd installment to our drive thru rap series: Chick Fil A!

Lyrics are original:

Ethan: For round 3, let's go on a tasty escapade to the land where the first chicken sandwich was made -- gourmet fast food, not to mention they're so polite. Scope this FrothyChicken swag and prep my food while I recite. That spicy chicken sandwich makes my taste buds tickle, but let's use the K.I.S. method: Keep it Simple -- hold the pickle! Parker: Ethan, you love pickles. Ethan: Well, maybe I used to, that don't mean I can't be fickle with the ambiguity of the subtle order that trickles off the pallet of my wicked and infamous rhyme spitta. That's Parker Hayes Jr., my designated hitta, but don't step up to bat, I'm kinda feelin' like a little polynesian, a side of cheese -- just some minor additions. A cornucopia of treats just to measure my chick addiction man. Check my diction, or the 6-inch incision of the order that I'm listin under the ridges of ya britches! Pause. Repetition, please start ya engines. Spit my rhymes too fast that ya probably didn't listen. So, gimme a numba 4. Extra margarine please, hold the pickles though, and listen to Parker's flow.

Parker: Separate the orders
mayne, i want my own check
im ballin on a budget
no stacks on deck
its survival of the fittest
and i need to get fed
it will take two chicken biscuits
to get my ass outta bed.
is it past 10:30
oh shit, check the time
i didn't look at the clock
before i started this rhyme
im just a hungry ass dude
sitting shot gun
load me up with twelve nuggets
but im far from done
i want food and drink
or maybe a nice combination
a hand spun milkshake
a cookies and cream fixation
i may be getting ahead of myself
you can stop listening
cancel my order
because my wallet is missing.

Logan: I'm not a cannibal, you animals; that's bad for your health!
The frothychicken's not about to take a bite of itself.
So rise and shine, mothercluckers, buck buck-buckock!
I've got a mouthful of words, and I don't wanna hear you talk.
Alright, I see you've got chicken, more chicken, and that's fine,
But where's the red meat, baby? Saw them cows up on your sign.
That's cool; I brought my own beef; it's still verbally formin'.
Can't I hunger on a Sunday? Have you read the book of Mormon?
Y'all should serve breakfast all day.
Sure, you can cook the chickens real good, but not the eggs that they lay.
In all truth, I'm not sure this is the place for me to dine.
If you're tryin' to make a sale, you best lower your priceline.
You tryin' to ball me 'cause I'm ballin' on a dime?
Think.
Well, chickenheads, it's chik felatio time.
(look into camera) Wink!
Alright, I'm done with dissin'.
I'll switch positions,
So you can listen.
Pitch some indecision, get you itchin' in the kitchen.
Hook me up with that stout twelve count chicken nugget.
Feelin' dicey, 'cause it's pricey; I might have to come and thug it.
Nah, forget it. Now I'm fuming, and my order's half-baked.
So I'll just cool myself off with a chocolate milkshake.
Now don't play. Drive through rappin' is my bread and butter.
No need to repeat my order, 'cause I know I didn't stutter.

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