Lyrics Bad Chicken - Chris Shepard

Living hard in the land of plenty
All alone in a room of many
Prone to occasional anger flare-ups
He was born in a lab

No one in his family
Will let him have pictures of their children
It's so hard to think; he's so backed up
He'll turn you out for his attention

Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken

Making the scene and working the room
Shaking hands with the hand of doom
Smoking crack in Switzerland
With his loyal army of prostitutes

Hiding behind the barn door
Making his alliances with sheep
Dragging his hydrocele around
He speaks with authority

Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken

It's all about kissing that Bad Chicken ass
If you wanna get in black and white

Half blind with cataracts
He shows up early, steals the gravy
Fresh out of metaphors
His perception is reality

Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken
Bad Chicken, Bad Chicken

Pollo malo
Pollo malo
Pollo malo