have you ever went over a friends house to eat
and the food just ain't no good?
i mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed,
and the chicken tastes like wood.
so you try to play it off, like you think you can,
by sayin' that you're full.
and then your friend says, ``momma, he's just being polite.
he ain't finished---uh uh---that's bull.''
so your heart starts pumpin' and you think of a lie
and you say that you already ate.
and your friend says, ``man, there's plenty of food,''
so you pile some more on your plate.
while the stinky foods steamin' your mind starts to dreamin'
of the moment that it's time to leave.
and then you look at your plate and your chicken's slowly rottin'
into something that looks like cheese.
``oh,'' so you say, ``that's it! i got to leave this place!
i don't care what these people think!
i'm just sittin' here makin' myself nauseous
with this ugly food that stinks!''
so you bust out the door while it's still closed,
still sick from the food you ate,
and then you run to the store for quick relief
from a bottle of kaopectate.
and then you call your friend, two weeks later,
to see how he has been.
and he says, ``i understand about the food,
baby, but we're still friends.''
- sugar hill gang