| Damn, can I get a piece of bread?
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| Without somebody in the street trying to eat what I said
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| I know I spread words like butter on toast
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| Cause when ya get it in the morning then ya love it the most
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| But see it’s really the beef I hate
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| Even though there’s a lot of y’all that wanna see my plate
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| I dedicate time to separate lines
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| And go bananas when I think about the food for ya mind
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| And stay away from them rotten apples
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| When ya fed some get fed and do a lot to get at you
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| So I match my caliber with my calories
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| Forty five shots a slice is like can it be
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| Nah, where you want it breast or thigh
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| I got a two piece and fries for niggas like y’all
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| So why would I pass my plate
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| When I’m working for a salary to pass my weight
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| Every seeds that grows of food is a show and prove
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| How I move when I go with the youth
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| I mean at a show if I flow in the booth
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| I let it be know you better be grown or don’t do it
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| Huh, many claim to have food for your brain
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| You can tell when they starving cause they arguments lame
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| What a shame you see me on the train and kick it
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| Thought it was sweet with a jook so you ran for your biscuit
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| But no matter what I can’t be stagnant
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| Cause I peep to survive now you need that cabbage
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| And after that shit everything is gravy
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| Until the next meal maybe shit’s crazy
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| I pray we see a better day
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| Cause see all this hunger is making me wonder why you lazy
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| Why would I pass my plate?
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| When I’m working for a salary to pass my weight
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| I broke bread with the real
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| Still I feel like I can’t get a meal so I gotta build
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| And I gotta chill from that cook up product
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| I ain’t trying to get fried in the streets, now look paw
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| Cause if I wasn’t eating I’d be right there
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| In ya grill to session telling you the reason
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| Huh, I ain’t trying to pass my plate
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| Cause I use the food for thought to add to my plate |