Chicken Grease

But not the kid see I'm like that old bucket of crisco
That's sitting on top of the stove
Simmer to a sizzle like the days of old
But I'll wait til I've mastered this, let the others go first
So the brothers won't miss
Fried til it's burned and crisp
Say we be cooking so the funksters can raise their fist like this
Now you know how its going down, start at your neck
Then through your back then it works its way down to your feet
So unique, come on everybody let's dance to the beat