When I was small We had nothing at all We used to eat Grits, for dinner It was pain almost drive a man insane what we could find for to survive another day but I said nah...
[RZA] An old killa bee once hummed me a tune Stay up at night, don't sleep on ya moon Four seeds in the bed, eight seeds in the room Afternoon cartoon, we would fight for the spoon Old Earth in the kitchen, yell "it's time to eat" Across the foyer, ya hear the gather of stampeding feet One pound box of sugar, and a stick of margarine A hot pot of Grits got my family from starvin' Loose with the welfare cheese, thick wit' the gravy used to suck it, straight out the bottle as a baby Steamy hot meal serve less than five minutes Big silver pot, boilin' water, salt in it House full of brothers and sisters, the pop's missin' Pillsbury box on the stove in the kitchen
[Hook x0.5]
[Masta Killa] Young shorties in my hood started hustlin' Packin' bags at the neighbourhood associate Growin' up, not as fortunate to have that fly shit I'm too young, no jobs'd hire me legit You walkin' down the street with ya gun in ya hand Drinkin, thinkin' of a masterplan Your Old Earth can't afford what ya friends got So you roll up to the spot, with ya thing 'pon cock And it seems worth the takin', stomach achin' Morning star Reggie makin' go good with the Grits Now let's take it back for real when we used to build at ghetto big wheels with the shoppin' cart wheels, and wood to nail the seat on Girls skippin' rope in the street the Summer heat, left the jelly prints stuck to they feet Skelly chief, flippin' baseball cards for keeps Momma said it's gettin' late, and it's time to come eat Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
