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