Underground
Jacob Read, Theo Mccabe
He don’t cook
He don’t sweep
He don’t eat
He don’t sleep
He don’t cry
He don’t moan
He don’t call when
I’m not home
Because my baby
Because my baby
He’s under the ground
And every single day since my old man died
I’ve been laughing and praying and
Swelling inside
The sweetest damn fruit my tongues tip ever found
Was the taste of my man, deep down
Under the ground
He don’t cook
He don’t sweep
He don’t eat
He don’t sleep
He don’t shake
He don’t pound
He don’t move
Or make a sound
Because my baby
Because my baby
Because my baby
He’s under the ground