Hot Chicken Coma
Alex Wilson
Description
"Hot Chicken Coma" is an infectious, high-energy country pop anthem celebrating the uniquely fiery experience of Nashville hot chicken. With a blend of twangy guitars, modern 808-style bass, and catchy melodies, the song captures the thrill and delirium of indulging in this culinary dare. It's a lighthearted, good-time party song about pushing your limits and embracing the heat, both literally and figuratively, with someone special.
Lyrics
[Intro] (Bright, twangy guitar loop with a deep 808-style bass drum hit on beat one. Handclaps enter.) Hot. Chicken. Coma. (Electric guitar hook, clean and snappy.) [Verse 1] Left the office, five thirty on the dot Knew a spot that sells a little fire, little hot Cruised that Cumberland to Jefferson, windows down Felt that weekend fever spreadin’ through the town You said, “I’m hungry, but I’m healthy, start me on the Mild” I said, “Honey, you got legs, you gotta learn to run a mile.” Told the lady, “Put the whole jar on it, don't be shy” Yeah, I gotta feel the warning just to feel alive. [Pre-Chorus] But the way you took that first bite, didn't even flinch That’s when I knew my night was gonna stretch more than an inch And now my soul is burnin’, body’s outta control It’s too late to turn back now, baby, let the good times roll. [Chorus] We’re going down, down, down in a Hot Chicken Coma Yeah, the spice is talkin’ louder than the voices in my Motorola Lips are numb, nose is runnin’, but my heart’s beatin’ fast This kinda feeling, man, you gotta make it last I don’t need the bar, don’t need the whiskey, don't need a ride Just this cayenne chaos buzzin’ on the passenger side. [Verse 2] Staggered out the door at a quarter past nine Got that grease stain lookin' at me, sayin' "mission accomplished, you're fine." Now we’re leaning on the fender, trying hard to breathe You’re talking 'bout tomorrow, but I can't quite believe That an hour in a parking lot, just sweat and just wings Could be the best time I have ever done anything. From the first bite to the last, it was all just a dare Yeah, the heat was temporary, but the memory’s right there. [Pre-Chorus] The way you took that first bite, didn't even flinch That’s when I knew my night was gonna stretch more than an inch And now my soul is burnin’, body’s outta control It’s too late to turn back now, baby, let the good times roll. [Chorus] We’re going down, down, down in a Hot Chicken Coma Yeah, the spice is talkin’ louder than the voices in my Motorola Lips are numb, nose is runnin’, but my heart’s beatin’ fast This kinda feeling, man, you gotta make it last I don’t need the bar, don’t need the whiskey, don't need a ride Just this cayenne chaos buzzin’ on the passenger side. [Bridge] I got grease on my shirt, sauce on my hands Got that three-alarm fire, do you understand? This ain't a love song, this ain't a sad tune This is the sound of us winning this afternoon! (Slowing down, rap-like delivery) Yeah, we conquered that chicken, now we're feeling the burn, A Nashville tradition, a lesson to learn. [Chorus] We’re going down, down, down in a Hot Chicken Coma Yeah, the spice is talkin’ louder than the voices in my Motorola Lips are numb, nose is runnin’, but my heart’s beatin’ fast This kinda feeling, man, you gotta make it last I don’t need the bar, don’t need the whiskey, don't need a ride Just this cayenne chaos buzzin’ on the passenger side. [Outro] Hot Chicken Coma (Gang vocals) Yeah, that Nashville fire, gonna make you wanna scream! Hot Chicken Coma (echoed, fading)