
Sing this song → ZION RAGE opened it for karaoke: their instrumental, their lyrics on a clock. Premium sings; everyone listens and votes.
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(plates up) (come eat)
Feed the yard! (feed 'em!) Everybody eat! (eat!)
Extension cord runnin' 'cross the whole damn street
Feed the yard! (feed 'em!) Pull up a seat! (seat!)
Movin' truck parked sideways, that's the servin' line, that's neat
Ribs up! (up!) Plates out! (out!)
Ain't nobody on this corner goin' without.
First Saturday, every month, rain or not
Me and Big Terrence on the grill in the lot
He did eleven, I did eight, we did 'em stacked
Learned to cook for four hundred off a hot plate and a rack (facts)
Folding tables off the rec center, I signed for 'em
Forty pounds of thighs and I paid for 'em, I ain't lyin' for 'em
Miss Carol bring the mac, don't nobody touch the mac
Till she say so. Grown men. Standin' there. Hands behind they back.
Twelve can't tell me nothin', pull up, they get a plate too
Officer, you want the sauce? Aight. Line start behind you.
Feed the yard! (feed 'em!) Everybody eat! (eat!)
Extension cord runnin' 'cross the whole damn street
Feed the yard! (feed 'em!) Pull up a seat! (seat!)
Movin' truck parked sideways, that's the servin' line, that's neat
Lil' dude 'bout nine tried to slide off with a tray
Terrence grabbed him by the hood. I said "nah. Let him stay."
Asked him who it's for. He said his sister and his mother
Handed him another one. And then I handed him another. (take it)
Told him "next month you come early, you on cups and ice."
He been here every first since. Ain't missed twice.
See, inside, the ones who ate was the ones who had a name
Out here I fix the rule. Everybody. Same.
I know what hungry turn a good kid into by eleven
I know 'cause I was nine once with a tray. Nobody let me.
Who hungry? (WE HUNGRY!)
Who eatin'? (WE EATIN'!)
Who left out? (NOBODY!)
Feed the yard! (feed 'em!) Everybody eat! (eat!)
Extension cord runnin' 'cross the whole damn street
Feed the yard! (feed 'em!) Pull up a seat! (seat!)
Movin' truck parked sideways, that's the servin' line, that's neat
Ribs up! (up!) Plates out! (out!)
First Saturday. Bring your people. Bring a chair. Come on out.
Grew up between the church pew and the prison yard. One minute he's talking to God, next minute he's at war. The most honest rapper alive because he hides nothing. He growls the prayer and the threat in the same breath.