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...