Wait a bloody second, this is a song about food?!??!?!

Mmm, Fried chicken....
Fly vixen! Give me heart Disease,
But need you in my kitchen.
You a bird, but you ain't a key,
Got wings but you can't fly away from me.
Driving 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 on hot oil for 'bout a half an hour.
You in your hot tub, I'm looking at you salivating,
Dry you off, I got your paper towel waiting .
Lay you down cause you're red hot.
Louisiana style you make my head rock
Then I flock to the bed then, "Plop",
When we done, I need rest.
Don't 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 master's 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 pasta,
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.
It's killing me when I'm this high,
Nothing I need more than a fish fry.

Shit, It taste good, I can't lie.
It's like you're 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, it's 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
Baby, It's 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, I'm reflecting on all the signs saying that I got,
I shouldn't fuck with you.
But the way you taste made it hard to resist when I put my mouth on you,
But that's another issue.
Butterflies up in my stomach when I laid eye on you;
Was it infection manifesting?
Confused over the feeling, impatiently eating you
Trichina worm worm chewing on the walls of my intestine.
I'ma eat you until there's 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

Ain't that some shit?
I'ma eat some shit
Until what I'm eating KILLS ME!

And I choose to do that
Why?
Cause that's just what niggas do