The Food
The Food

Common - The Food Lyrics

Hip-Hop/Rap
May 24, 2005
6
The Food Music Video

The Food Lyrics

Tonight's musical guests
Two of Chicago's finest MCs
Give it up for Common and Kanye West

Yeah (Common Sense), it's Common Sense
Kanye West on the Dave Chappelle Show
Everybody gotta eat right, y'all?
It's "The Food", baby

I walked in the crib, got two kids
And my baby mama late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)
So I had to did what I had to did
'Cause I had to give (dough, dough, dough)
I'm up all night gettin' my money right
Until the blue and whites (po-po, po-po, po-po)
Now the money coming slow, but at least a, know
Slow motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh)

Yo, yo, you love to hear the story, again and again
About these young brothers, from the City of Wind
Like juice and gin, in the city we blend
Amongst the hustle, titties and skin, fifties and rims
Y'all know the Sprewells and trucks that's detailed
Heartless females that wanna ride in 'em
Felt the Southside venom in raw hides and denim
Pimp minds collide with 'em, a system that tries victims
We livin' in, my man in the fast lane pivotin'
On the block, is sellin' like Eminem
On the block it jump off like Kim and 'em
On the block it's hot, you can feel it in your skin and then
Shorties get the game with no instructions to assemblin'
Eyes bright, it seems like the fight is dim in 'em
Call my man cuzzo like I'm kin to him
He tryna stay straight, the streets is bendin' him

Yo, I walked in the crib, got two kids
And my baby mama late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)
So I had to did what I had to did
'Cause I had to give (dough, dough, dough)
Yo, I'm up all night gettin' my money right
Until the blue and whites (po-po, po-po, po-po)
Now the money coming slow, but at least a, know
Slow motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh)

It's all good in the hood, like rats and gyms
Throwbacks and Timbs, Blacks and rims
Whether on ball courts, attires of all sorts
We never fall short, with us it's all force like Air 1's
Some waves, some air guns, the days of the fair one is over for
Cats is colder than four below, with self I go toe to toe
Wonderin' if it's for the art or for the dough
Though I know to grow a, gotta learn to let go
Though I know the dough I gotta bring back to the ghetto
Arrows on Tarot cards pointin' to the grind
Po' livin' in more prisons, pointin' to my mind, shine the light up
Clench my fists tight, holdin' the right up
Freedom fight in dark gear for the years to get brighter
Situations, and jaws get tighter
My man tryna get his weight and height up, come on

Yo, yo, I walked in the crib, got two kids
And my baby mama late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)
So I had to did what I had to did
'Cause I had to give (dough, dough, dough)
I'm up all night gettin' my money right
Until the blue and whites (po-po, po-po, po-po)
Now the money coming slow, but at least a, know
Slow motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh)

Ayo, I, I know I could make it right (sing it, yeah)
If I could just swallow my pride (uh, come on)
But I can't run away or put my gun away
You can't front on me
I, no, I can't let it ride
No, no, not tonight
No, I can't run away or put my gun away
You can't front on me

Writer(s): Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Kanye Omari West, Sam Cooke, Stanley Wayne McKenney, Eugene Record
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Abkco Music Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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