Kunci: A minor•
Verse 1
Am
G
C
Em
My old boy from the point,
I get put to the test
C
Em
But I can't be stopped,
cause I gotta come through
G
Am
Ain't got no gun, but I got my crew
C
Em
Didn't come for no beef,
G
I gotta play the soul, food,
chicken, rice, and gravy
C
Em
Not covered in too much,
drinkin' a cup of punch
G
Am
Top of call every last
Thursday of the Daddy
C
Em
Am
put the high grits on my chest in the mornin',
Mary had the hot soup,
Em
C
Em
all of that and the wine, but it felt so good
G
Like some waffles in the morning,
Am
headed back to the woods,
now I'm full as a tick
Em
C
Got some soul on blast in the cassette,
it haven't stopped learnin' yet
Em
got my forehead sweaty,
G
celery and blue cheese on my menu
C
next try my body to lie still
Em
C
G
Tired face brooms around me
like cancer drill
C
Em
Me with second hand obstacles,
plus I'm gettin' pimped
Am
by this templated jacket
C
G
C
From Optima, staffin' niggas, laughin'
don't talk to me like that
C
Nigga, I'm stupid, of course,
G
And you ain't hard trick, hell, you say
Em
Am
C
Haha, it's such a blessing
Em
C
when my eyes get to see the sunrise
Another chance to get further away
C
Em
from what I've been
But I never forget
G
Everything I went through,
I appreciate the shit
Am
Because if I had to win,
Wouldn't be the strong nigga
that I am today
C
Em
Everything that I did,
different things I was told,
G
just ended up being food for my soul.
C
Em
get your soul food.
G
Am
Well, it's good old
C
Em
fashioned soul food.
Alright.
G
Em
C
Em
Everything is for free.
Am
G
As good as it can be.
C
Em
Come and get some soul food.
G
Am
Sunday morning, where you eating at?
C
Em
I'm on 1365 Wichita Drive.
church to drop a chicken
Em
Then go together with this
Last night, hangin' over
for my good time
C
Em
Yeah, beef is cheaper,
C
G
but it's pork with red dot
between two pieces of bread
Am
C
Em
Sour look good, with them hairy legs
Em
but my star man come before sex
C
Em
A house full of hoes,
C
G
now what's the ingredients?
Spaghetti plus, a muffin float
C
They know they're makin' it
G
Am
Fuck Chris Darden, fuck Marsha Claw
G
C
Taking us one week in
Em
the spotlight for a joke
C
G
Changing by the day,
Am
I see it's getting bigger in my square
Em
G
from the outside with the stare
No money to go inside,
Em
G
Tamika and Tiffany outside
C
Tripping and skipping rope
Em
C
G
to the beats from my Jeep
Am
As I speak, what's up from
Em
A heap of help with the fried chicken,
Am
And collard greens too
C
Smoke stings from under the lid
Em
C
that's on the blind
G
Am
Ain't never had a lot,
but thankful for the little that I got
C
Em
Why not me?
G
Fast food got me feeling sick
F
Them crackers think they slick
G
C
Em
By trying to make this bullshit affordable
voice was recordable
C
Em
Oh Lord
Well then
G
C
Hold up, see, it's what I write
Em
And Miss Lady acting like we in jail
C
G
Says she ain't got no extra
Em
Making me hit the door
G
with a mind full of attitude
Em
It was a line at the beautiful
C
Em
JJ's real shack was packed too
C
G
Looking to be one of them days
Am
G
C
where mama ain't cooking
Em
Everybody's out hunting
with the family
G
Looking for a little soul food
C
Em
Come and get your soul food
C
Em
Little fashion soul food
G
F
Alright
C
Em
Everything is for free
C
G
As good as it can be
C
Em
G
Come and get some soul food
F
C
Come and get your soul food
Em
G
Well then
C
Em
Little fashion soul food
G
F
C
Em
G
Alright, everything is perfect
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