Thought Process

By Goodie Mob

On Soul Food

Released on November 7, 1995

43K Views

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[Verse 1: T-Mo]

Let me get a chop at this lumber

Niggas from down Underground, they hangin' around the A-Town

Lookin' for a come up, workin' from nine to five

Just to get some change so T-Mo can stay alive

Not greedy or livin' lavish yet, but you can bet

That when I do, nobody from my crew will I forget

If I start to get large and come up on some change

I won't change, everybody know they down

It's not the same, everyday life can be different

These laws got me ready to brawl 'cause I fall a victim

So I still be slingin' them fat pillows to make 'em meet

Each and every day as I comb my city streets

Sometimes I wish I never had been a part of this mess

'Cause the system got us fucked up

It put us to the test, women and men, if you black, you in

Food for the soul, listen to what I tell you

It don't matter, young or old

It's time we loc' up and do like we suppose

We killin' each other over this bullshit and some clothes

We trapped off in this world's society with no place else to go

So how you feel?


[Verse 2: Khujo]

Frustrated, irritated

Sometimes I don't know myself, I be too numb

To feel something sometimes, so I dig deep

Get in the Cherokee

Let my mind fly free into the wilderness

So I can get this shit off my mind

That's why I be smokin' that dank sometimes

It keep me from snappin', keeps me calm

Keeps my mind open, keeps me fond

Of what I gots to do off in the studio

To get my old bird back on her feet

And my little bro in Statesboro

And my little cuz Mark Twain

All my folks that hang with me

When I was out in the trap or when I was goin'

Through one of our episodes, only God knows

What I go through, so I get down on my knees

Sometimes I come home too high to pray

But I get on my bed, lay on my back

And meditate, anyway, in the ceiling

The four walls, it's like cell therapy

Got nothing to do but write about my L-I-F-E

Put it down on paper

Man, so what you feelin' like?


[Bridge: Cee-Lo & Khujo]

I live for today, motherfuck another hour

It might be sour, never know my day so I'm prayin' in the shower

Look up and thank the Lord for forgiveness, a witness to bad, I'm lookin' for good

In the Southwest, God bless my neighborhood

There's people killin' in the street to eat

Survivin' the day is the only goal that I set

Just to make it home, I'm not alone

Someone's out to get me when I haven't done shit wrong


[Verse 3: Big Gipp]

My head felt swoll', messed up, couldn't see past my mouth

What route did you take, man? Got me by the loops of my pants

Got me on the curb lettin' the traffic pass me by

No questions, I said nothing

Lookin' for the mutant to be buckin' the law, naw man, Gipp

Showed him my shit, closed my mouth. then I dip

See, to me, a G is a person who understands the plan

Can't make no moves when you in the hands of the man

They got some new suites down Peachtree

Left wing for the feds, right wing for the hardheads

Makin' more deals than Buddy Fowlkes made with Hartsfield

Somebody don't want my face in this place for ‘96, shit's slick

Car be clean, lookin' fresh, dog be scratchin' at my chest

Under the order of who? Guess who, ain't none iller

Than Miller, wanna 1-2 your ass

No more life, what you gave is the past, 'cause ain't no future

Wanna Miller camp your case, disgrace your face

Make it seem to be safe, ain't no place to run


[Verse 4: Cee-Lo]

Sometimes I don't even know how I'm gon' eat

'Bout twenty dollars away from being on the street

Shit, might see a nigga on TV

But hell, it's almost like I'm rappin' for free

That little money be gone

God dammit, I'm grown

Gotta help keep the heat and the lights on

It would be nice to have more

But I kind of like bein' poor

At least I know what my friends here for

I wanna lie to you sometimes, but I can't

I wanna tell you that it's all good, but it ain't

It's niggas hurtin' and uncertain about

If they gon' make it or not, that's why we got niggas killing

Feelin' like they comin' up off a little dope they sold

You can get some gold but we won't make it as a whole

'Cause without you, there'd be no me

And without no unity, there will never be any happiness

You could smoke a pound of sess

And it still won't relieve your stress

God bless

My thought process


[Verse 5: André 3000]

The thought process

Now

Now as an outcast, I was born, wasn't warned of the harm

That would come to meet me like Met Life, but yet life

Done sent me through a lot of ups and downs like it ain't nothin'

Like elevators, but I ain't the one that's pushin' the buttons

I got off at the thirteenth floor, when they told me that it wasn't one

They said it skipped from twelve to fourteen

Still smoking, still drinking

No, I'm sittin' on the Lincoln, 4 AM, thinking

That in reality the world is like a ball full of players

We trapped off in this maze with walls made of layers

And only prayer is the tightest game that you can have

The devil's takin' a swing, that might explain the broken glass

But my crystal ball see the pistol fall to the wayside

Nobody would die in cops and robbers when we used to play, right?

Huh, only thing we feared was Williams, Wayne

Never thought about hittin' licks or slingin' 'caine

Did not think I'd be the one to give in to abortion

Label me murderer because my ass is scorchin'

Hot from the Glock that sits under my seat

Yeah, it's real fucked up that my folks come to get me

And it's like that

Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, and it's like them