Исполнитель: Nas

Перевод песни

Песня: Fried Chicken
[Verse 1: Nas]
Lord, Lord, y'all! What I'm gonna do?
Lord, Lord y'all! Shit is all true.
Mmm, fried chicken, fly vixen,
Give me heart disease but need you in my kitchen,
You a bird but you ain't a ki,
Got wings but you can't fly away from me,
Drivin' in your bucket seats,
All the way from Kentucky to fuck 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 your hot oil for about a half an hour,
You in your hot tub, I'm lookin' at you salivatin',
Dry you off, I got your paper towel waitin',
Lay you down ‘cause you're red hot,
Louisiana style, you make my head rot,
Then I flock to the bed, then plop.
When we done I need rest,
Don't know what part of you I love best,
Your legs or your breast,
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you gonna be a nigga death.
Created by southern black women to serve massa's guest,
You gonna be a nigga death.
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you was my addiction,
Drippin' with high cholest.
Like Greeks with his falafel, Italian with his tomato pasta,
What roti is to a rasta – trappin' me.
You and your friend mac' and cheese,
Candy yams, collard greens, but you knockin' me to my knees.
It's killin' me when I'm inside,
Nothing I need more than a fish fry.

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
Shit, it taste good, I can't lie,
It's like you're walkin' out the tanning salon,
When I pull you out the oven from bakin' I got you on my mind,
Rubbin' that sun tan lotion all up over your body.
So amazing how you sparkle when I glaze you swine,
Hey, my pretty, Ham Hock,
It's so feminine the way you submitted and how you gave me power,
To massagin' me to shower you with lemon water,
Marinate you with seasonin' and dippin' you in chowder.
Baby, it's like you at the spa the way you gently lay in the pan,
While enjoyin' your butter milk treatment.
I sit and watch the grease sizzle bubblin' on your skin,
Despite the funny fragrance still I lick my finger frequent.
In any event, I'm reflectin' on all the signs
That I got sayin' that I shouldn't fuck with you,
But the way you that you would taste made you hard to resist,
When I put my mouth on you, but that's another issue.
Butterflies up in my stomach, when I laid eyes on you,
Or was it infection manifestin'
Confused over the feeling, impatiently eatin' you,
Trichina worm chewin' on the wall of my intestine.
I'ma eat you until there's nothing left,
Until my very last breath, you gonna be a nigga death.
Despite I prepare it the best, specialize in cookin' swine as a chef,
You gonna be a nigga death.
Who cares if the swine is mixed with rat, cat and dog combined,
Yes, I'ma eat the shit to death.
Ain't that some shit?
I'ma eat some shit until what I'm eatin' kills me,
And I choose to do that, why?
‘Cause that's just what niggas do...

Перевод песни:
Жареная курица

[Куплет 1: Nas]
Боже, Боже, что же мне делать?
Боже, Боже, всё это правда!
М-м-м... Жареная курица — клёвая дрянь,
Из-за тебя у меня появятся болезни сердца, но ты нужна мне за столом,
Ты птичка, но не кило, 1
У тебя есть крылышки, но ты не можешь улететь от меня,
Ты ехала в каком-то ведре..... [открыть перевод]

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