Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chittlins & Pepsi, artist - Strong Arm Steady. Album song In Search Of Stoney Jackson, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.01.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Stones Throw
Song language: English
Chittlins & Pepsi |
Shit… |
But I ain’t fucking with them chitlins |
The most I’m a do is chicken, bad food’ll have your breath kicking |
Try a diet like Russell Simmons |
Dating vegetarian vegan women drinking water with lemons |
Low sodium salt, no pork on your fork |
After meals you take a long walk |
And stay away from the ballpark franks, you pulling all that rank |
At Whole Foods putting fuel in your tank |
That’s more muscle for the machine |
Brussel sprouts, broccoli and string beans |
You get your choice of three greens plus a starch to go with it |
Committed to the gym keeping your waistline trim |
That put a grin all over my face, when you walk in the place |
We had ketchup on Sunset, tomato paste |
Chicago Summertime at the taste, no time to waste |
We don’t waste food on our plate, let the haters hate |
Twelve-ounce steak, asparagus tips delicious, got me licking my lips |
On some LL Cool J shit |
No rib-tips, we take tips from the best chefs like Raekwon |
Now pass the Grey Poupon, no MSG, no butter on my popcorn |
This ain’t a pop song, tell 'em |
These type of women I sees often, the Trader Joe |
All natural juice drinking breezes be at the flea market |
Berkeley Bowl, free range chicken and rosemary |
Avocado California Rolls fresh jalopy |
Yoga girl part agave |
Green salad pita supporter, vegan au gratin |
High on the calcium, cashews, callaloo and curry |
Raw veggies, one hundred percent alkaline |
Backrubs while I smoke my berries |
You and your chick at Mickey D’s ordering Frost McFlurrys |
And one thing’s for sure you got that (good thing) |
That’s why I got you pregnant cause your pussy was fertile |
I can give it to you tough or take it slow like turtles |
So soulful my tofu Whole Foods girl |
Butternut squash, maple syrup, semi-succulent |
You the one I’m fucking with |
My organic supplement, always something healthy in the tupperware |
I’m eating from the ground as long as we have an atmosphere |
Day to day business, water, lime, maple syrup |
Cayenne pepper fast, a ten-day cleansing |
And if you eat swine that might fuck up our friendship |
You know the God gotta have a Queen in the kitchen |
Missus microwave three day refrigerated meat loaf, tastes homemade |
Daily grill diner, potato parmesan and no lactose |
Doze in the massage chair reclining |
Thousand Island ruffage, turkey stuffing with brown biscuits |
Blonde Barbie dolls call 'em muffins |
My honey loves mustard, chicken sub Quiznos munching |
Veggie dog sauteed onions |
Mouth full of Funyuns on the ferris wheel turning |
Having so much fun, tummy burning |
Hard, a masala make a hungry man follow ya |
Right off the edge of the terrace, asparagus marriage |
Bad vision fill my belly up with carrots, malnutrition |
Cupcake cholesterol, lifting weights |
In between the mocha milkshakes and the succulent Salisbury Steak, wait |
She got a porcelain plate, cornish and crab cornbread, kosher |
Feeling my foreskin, this Corsican’s horse butt girlfriend |
Gets full of forcing it in |
In the end she skips din goes straight to dessert |
And tries to feed me what’s under that skirt |
I leave screaming |