Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Food, artist - Common. Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Song language: English
The Food |
| Yeah! |
| It’s been a long time comin' |
| You know what they say Kanye |
| Slow motion better than no motion |
| I walked in the crib, got two kids |
| And my baby mama late (uh oh! uh oh! uh oh!) |
| So I had to did, what I had to did |
| 'Cause I had to get (duh-ough! duh-ough! duh-ough!) |
| I’m up all night, getting my money right |
| Until the blue and whites (po po! po po! po po!) |
| Now the money comin' slow, but a least a nigga know |
| Slow motion better than (no-oh! no-oh! no-oh!) |
| You love to hear the story, again and again |
| About these young brothers, from the City of Wind |
| Like juice and gin, in the city we blend |
| Amongst the hustle, titties and skin, fifties and rims |
| Y’all know the Sprewells and trucks that’s detailed |
| Heartless females that wanna ride in 'em |
| Felt the Southside venom in raw hides and denim |
| Pimp minds collide with 'em, a system that tries victims |
| We livin' in, my man in the fast lane pivotin' |
| On the block white is selling like Eminem |
| On the block it jump off like Kim and 'em |
| On the block it’s hot, you can feel it, in your skin and then |
| Shorties get the game but no instructions to assemblin' |
| Eyes bright, it seems like the fight is dim in 'em |
| Call my man Cuzo, like I’m kin to him |
| He tryin' to stay straight, the streets is bendin' him |
| I walked in the crib, got two kids |
| And my baby mama late (uh oh! uh oh! uh oh!) |
| So I had to did, what I had to did |
| 'Cause I had to get (duh-ough! duh-ough! duh-ough!) |
| I’m up all night, getting my money right |
| Until the blue and whites (po po! po po! po po!) |
| Now the money comin' slow, but a least a nigga know |
| Slow motion better than (no-oh! no-oh! no-oh!) |
| It’s all good in the hood, like rats in gyms |
| Throwbacks and Timbs, blacks and rims |
| Whether on ball courts or tires of all sorts |
| We never fall short, with us it’s all Force like Air 1's |
| Some waves, some air guns, the days of the fair one is over for |
| Cats is colder than four below, with self I go toe to toe |
| Wondering if it’s for the art or for the dough |
| Though I know to grow a nigga gotta learn to let go |
| Though I know the dough I got to bring back to the ghetto |
| Arrows on tarot cards pointin' to the grind |
| Po' livin' in more prisons, pointin' to my mind, shine the light up |
| Clench my fists tight, holdin' the right up |
| Freedom fight in dark gear for the years to get brighter |
| Situations, and jaws get tighter |
| My man trying to get his weight and height up, c’mon! |
| I walked in the crib, got two kids |
| And my baby mama late (uh oh! uh oh! uh oh!) |
| So I had to did, what I had to did |
| 'Cause I had to get (duh-ough! duh-ough! duh-ough!) |
| I’m up all night, getting my money right |
| Until the blue and whites (po po! po po! po po!) |
| Now the money comin' slow, but a least a nigga know |
| Slow motion better than (no-oh! no-oh! no-oh!) |
| I, I know I could make it right |
| If I could just swallow my pride |
| But I can’t run away or put my gun away |
| You can’t front on me |
| I, no I can’t let it ride |
| No, no, not tonight |
| See I can’t run away or put my gun away |
| You can’t front on me |
| Yeah, I break bread with thieves and pastors, OGs and masters |
| Emcees and actors that seize and capture |
| Moments like the camcorder |
| You ain’t killin' it, yo that’s manslaughter |
| Though paper can’t change a man’s aura |
| It can feed a man’s daughter |
| I stand for the blue collar, on the side makin' a few dollars |
| Like Sam Jack they maneuver through drama like |
| I, I know I could make it right |
| If I could just swallow my pride |
| But I can’t run away or put my gun away |
| You can’t front on me |
| I, no I can’t let it ride |
| No, no, not tonight |
| See I can’t run away or put my gun away |
| You can’t front on me |
| I, I know I could make it right |
| If I could just swallow my pride |
| But I can’t run away or put my gun away |
| You can’t front on me |
| I, no I can’t let it ride |
| No, no, not tonight |
| See I can’t run away or put my gun away |
| You can’t front on me |