Up from womb to tomb He rises grave to cradle He makes His own meats, puts food on the table It's a full-time gig eatin' sin-on-the-cob The hours s**, but it's a job Feed that ego and you starve the soul... Concrete hog with letters "BBQ" "Eatin' ain't cheatin'" it'll have to do He's so slick that he can steal the shortnin' Right out of the biscuit, not crackin' the crust, ya'll Feed that ego and you starve the soul...