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Candied-Ass Yams All up in This Piece

October 10, 2011

Have I really not done a Thanksgiving throwdown yet? Unforgivable! The sheer scope of filthy word play opportunities and degenerate mental images is overwhelming me a bit. Okay, deep breath, little cracka. You got this.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! May your turkeys fly as high as your dreams.

Turn my oven up.
450 degreezy.
Thanksgeezy in the heezy, my neezy.

Mid-October, the leaves is itchin’ for freedom, gutter-fallin’;
me, I’m bitchin’ in the kitchen, I got the utter gall to be Butterballin’
like a greased-up Shaq. All my homies gonna snack
on this finger lickin’ good poultry poetry attack.

First of all, I’m givin’ thanks
for the shanks in my east side enemies.
Soon as they on the fuckin’ ground, quick like a rocket,
I’m pluckin’ wallets from the pockets of the dyin’, buyin’ rounds of Hennesys.
Call me Caps Lock ’cause I’m all capital, got endless Gs.

And secondly, I’m mad thankful
to the pigeon-ass hoes in my hood who be mad skankful.
Find a good-lookin’ bird, soon I’m bonin’ and stuffin’.
Nothin’ beats the heated meat of a human turducken
Slow-cookin’ in a lovin’ oven.
Dark or white, who cares, just keep it tight,
all good all night. Yeah we feelin’ so right in the candlelight.

Back in the kitchen now, mixin’ side dishes for all my bitches now.
Gravy simmerin’, baked po-fuckin’-tatoes wit’ all the fixin’s now.
Jelly salad in the fridge straight chillin’:
Gotta keep it fresh; don’t want nobody illin’.
My ho made homemade cranberry sauce, she’s the cranberry boss.
Soon there’s gonna be a ruckus.

Unghh. Dinnertime, awww yeeeahh.
Plant yo’ ass in a chair.
Now errbody put your fork in the air
and wave it like you just won’t share.
The breast side is the best side…

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