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I need home, home cookin', yeah |
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I need home, home cookin', yeah |
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It's said, a woman's place is in the kitchen |
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But in the kitchen you are a flop |
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Them meals that you been fixin' |
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They ain't nothin' but yesterday's slop |
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An I like yo' wiggly walk |
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I like yo', baby talk, yeah |
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You're neat the way you look |
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But you ain't nothin' if you can't cook |
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I need home, home cookin', yeah |
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I need home, home cookin', yeah |
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Hot, I sweat all day |
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I rush back home to see what you cookin' |
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Your beans are burned, you've ruined my place |
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And in the mirror I find you lookin' |
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Now I like sweet candied yams |
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And I like homemade ham-hocks |
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Instead of study, how you look |
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You oughta study yo' mama's cookbook |
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If you want a soul man |
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Get to rattlin', them pots and pans |
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I need home, home cookin' |
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I need home, home cookin' |
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Yeah |
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Hot gravy, that pot roast |
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That pickled beets and sugared toast |
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I like yo' wiggly walk, yeah |
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An I like yo' way a talkin' |
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And you look neat the way you look |
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But you ain't nothin' if you can't cook |
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I need home, home cookin' |
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I'm in the mood for soul food |
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I said, home, home cookin' |
