Lyrics Soul Food - Goodie Mob, 8Ball, MJG

Soul Food

My old boy from the point
But I’m from Southwest and every
Now and then I get put to the test
But I can’t be stopped
Cause I gotta come true ain’t got no gun
But I got my crew
Didn’t come for no beef cause I don’t eat steak
I 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
Daddy put tha hot grits on my chest in tha morning
When I was sick Mary had tha hot soup boiling
Didn’t know why but it felt so good
Like some waffles in that morning
Headed back to tha woods
Now I’m full as tick
Got some soul on blast in tha cassette
Food for my brain
I haven’t stopped learning yet
Hot wings from Mo-Joes
Got my forehead sweating
Celery and blue cheese on my menu next
Southern Fry won’t allow my body to lie still
Tied face goons surround me like cancer drill
Me with second-hand obstables
But, only to make matters worse
Plus I’m getting pimped by this temp lady Jackie
From Optima staffing figure laughing
Shut up clown don’t talk to me
Like that looking stupid of course
Living day by day and you ain’t hard
Trick hell you say?
It’s such a blessing when my eyes
Get to see the sun rise
I’m ready to begin
Another chance to get further away from where I’ve been
But I’ll never forget
Everythang I went through I appreciate the shit
Because If I hada went and took the easy way
Wouldn’t be the strong nigga that I am today
Everythang that I did
Different thangs I was told
Just ended up being food for my soul
Come and get yo' soul food, well well
Good old-fashioned soul food, all right
Everythang is for free
As good as it can be
Come and get some soul food
Sunday morning where you reating at?
I’m on 1365 Wichita Drive
Ole' burd working the stove ride
Churches dropping chicken in yesterday’s grease
Didn’t go together with this quart of Mickey’s
Last night hanging over from a good time
Yeah beef is cheaper but
It’s pumped with «red dye» between two pieces of bread
Shawty look good with dem hairy legs
Wish I could cut her up but, ma stomach come before sex
A house full of hoes now what’s the ingredient
Spaghetti plus her monthly flow
They know they making it hard on the yard
Fuck Chris Darden, fuck Marcia Clark
Taking us when we’re in the spotlight for a joke
Changing by the day I see it’s getting bigga in my square
Looking at Lenox from the outside
With a stare no money to go inside
Tameka and Tiffany outside tripping
And skipping rope to the beats from my jeep
As I speak wuz up from the driver seat
A heaping helping of fried chicken
Macaroni and cheese and collard greens
Too big for my jeans
Smoke steams from under the lid that’s on the pot
Ain’t never had a lot, but thankful for
The little that I got
Why not be?
Fast food got me feeling sick
Them crackers think they slick
By trying to make this bullshit affordable
I thank the Lord that my voice was recordable
(Come an get your soul food, well, well)
Hold up C it’s what I write
And Miss Lady acting like we in jail
Says she ain’t got no extra hush puppies to sell
Bankhead seafood making me hit that door
With a mind full of attitude
It was a line at Tha Beautiful
JJ’S Ribshack was packed too
Looking to be one of dem days
When Momma ain’t cooking
Everybody’s out hunting with tha family
Looking for a little soul food