Goodie Mob - Soul Food Lyrics
(intro):1996. (soul food).Eightball and mjg, goodie mob, crazy cBringing the soul food straight to you.Sit down and get yourself a plate.(sample):Get a plate of soul food, chicken rice and gravy.(verse 1):(t-mo):My old boy from the point. but Im from southwestAnd every now and then I get put to the testBut I cant be stopped, cause I gotta come trueAint go no gun. but I got my crewDidnt come fo no beef cause I dont eat steakI got a plate of soul food chicken, rice and gravy,Not covered in too much. drinking a cup of punch-Tropical-every last thursday of the month(big gipp):Daddy put the hot grits on my chest in the morningWhen I was sick, mary had the hot soup boilingDidnt know why, but it felt so goodLike some waffles in that morningHeaded back to the woodsNow Im full as tick. got some soul on blast in the cassetteFood for my brain. I havent stopped learning yetHot wings from mo-joes. got my forehead sweatingCelery and blue cheese on my menu next(koujo)Southern fry wont allow my body to lie stillTied face goons surround me like cancerDrill me with second-hand obstaclesBut, only to make matters worsePlus, Im getting pimped by this temp lady jackieFrom optima: staffing figure. laughingShut up clown. dont talk to me like thatLooking stupid of course. living day by dayAnd you aint hard trick? hell you say?(cee-lo)Its such a blessing when my eyes get to see the sun riseIm ready to beginAnother chance to get further away from where Ive beenBut Ill never forgetEvery thing I went through, I appreciate the shitBecause if I had of went and took the easy way,I wouldnt be the strong nigga that I am todayEvery thing that I did, different things I was told,Just ended up being food for my soul(chorus)Come and get yo soul food, well wellGood old-fashioned soul food, all rightEverythang is for freeAs good as it can beCome and get some soul food(koujo)Sunday morning where you eating at?Im on 1365 wichita drive.Old bird working the stove right?Churchs dripping chicken in yesterdays greaseDidnt go together with this quart of mickeysLast night hanging over from a good timeYeah, beef is cheaper,But its pumped with red dye between two pieces of breadShawty look good with them hairy legsWish I could cut her up, but my stomach come before sexA house full of hoes. now whats the ingredient:Spaghetti, plus her monthly flow(t-mo):They know they making it hard on the yard***** chris darden! ***** marsha clark!Taking us when were in the spotlight for a jokeChanging by the day. I see its getting bigger in my squareLooking at lenox from the outsideWith a stare. no money to go insideTameka and tiffany outside tripping and skipping ropeTo the beats from my jeepAs I speak, whats up from the driver seat(cee-lo)A heaping helping of fried chicken,Macaroni and cheese and collard greensToo big for my jeansSmoke steams from under the lid thats on the potAint never had a lot. but thankful for the little that I gotWhy not be? fast food got me feeling sickThem crackers think they slickBy tryin to make this bullshit affordableI thank the lord that my voice was recordableFor soul foodCome an get your soul food well well..(big gipp)Hold up c. its what I writeAnd miss lady, acting like we in jailSays she aint got no extra hush puppies to sellBankhead seafood making me hit that door with a mind full of attitudeIt was a line at the beautifulJjs ribshack was packed tooLooking to be one of them days when mama aint cookingEverybodys out hunting with the familyLooking for a little soul food(chorus):Come and get yo soul food, well wellGood old-fashioned soul food, all rightEverythang is for freeAs good as it can beCome and get some soul food(mjg):I got the fever for some ham hocksHit the spot with hot spaghettiSome kool aid with three or four rolls and grape jellyThe same old prejudice folks from 65Its 1996. (where they at? ). they still aliveHell, Im giving you a dose of my knowledge with hot gravyJimmy swager, reverend ike and his wife: they couldnt save meA buttered toast midnight snack with cold waterToo late to thaw the chicken and cook it, so I aint botheredDamn this last little helping of ham and christmas dressingGot me in the middle of february counting my blessingsLike that government cheese in that no name box,Keep me locked when I done ate all the beans in the potThem old school hot mo cakes and mash potatas,Helps keep my radar strong for infiltratasFrom the days of my diapers til the day Im old,Ill be soaking up the game. can you feel my soul?(eightball):Eightball coming funki as a pot of chitlinsSoul feeder with the lyrics I be spittinGetting lifted. giftedGod is my father. glory is my mother:The baked chicken smothererFilling me to capacity when I was youngerSprinkle me like suga t, so I wouldnt have to wonderAbout life; about the streets that I walk up and downGrab a pen, and let it take me out of orange moundFar away, I spend my days chuffing hayGot inner city blues, but Im not marvin gayePray. trying to find another way to make some payMom says [that] without a job, her baby cant stayGots to go, now Im gone. hard foesNo food for the soul. this place is so coldEightball and mjg, moe beeSpace age soul food for your babies(chorus):Come and get yo soul food, well wellGood old-fashioned soul food, all rightEverythang is for freeAs good as it can beCome and get some soul food(sample):Cause I dont eat steak.
