Hominy Grits Lyrics
| Song | Hominy Grits |
| Artist | Josephine Foster |
| Album | Hazel Eyes, I Will Lead You |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Foster | |
| Give to the world a bit of hominy, hominy | |
| Hominy, hominy grits! | |
| And it will butter all yer troubles away | |
| You know it pleases | |
| Me to serve you | |
| Breakfast in the morning | |
| Hot off the cradle | |
| You were fine and able | |
| My momma sent me | |
| From the penitentiary | |
| She stole the keys from | |
| The warden of the century | |
| The century | |
| Give to the world a bit of hominy, hominy | |
| Hominy, hominy grits! | |
| And it will butter all yer troubles away | |
| You know it pleases | |
| Me to unnerve you | |
| With my ukulele | |
| I got a lover | |
| He's my little baby | |
| I nurse him at the table | |
| 'Cause he says he's feeble | |
| And pack him up a sundown | |
| In my little rundown | |
| Limousine | |
| My limousine |
| zuo qu : Foster | |
| Give to the world a bit of hominy, hominy | |
| Hominy, hominy grits! | |
| And it will butter all yer troubles away | |
| You know it pleases | |
| Me to serve you | |
| Breakfast in the morning | |
| Hot off the cradle | |
| You were fine and able | |
| My momma sent me | |
| From the penitentiary | |
| She stole the keys from | |
| The warden of the century | |
| The century | |
| Give to the world a bit of hominy, hominy | |
| Hominy, hominy grits! | |
| And it will butter all yer troubles away | |
| You know it pleases | |
| Me to unnerve you | |
| With my ukulele | |
| I got a lover | |
| He' s my little baby | |
| I nurse him at the table | |
| ' Cause he says he' s feeble | |
| And pack him up a sundown | |
| In my little rundown | |
| Limousine | |
| My limousine |
| zuò qǔ : Foster | |
| Give to the world a bit of hominy, hominy | |
| Hominy, hominy grits! | |
| And it will butter all yer troubles away | |
| You know it pleases | |
| Me to serve you | |
| Breakfast in the morning | |
| Hot off the cradle | |
| You were fine and able | |
| My momma sent me | |
| From the penitentiary | |
| She stole the keys from | |
| The warden of the century | |
| The century | |
| Give to the world a bit of hominy, hominy | |
| Hominy, hominy grits! | |
| And it will butter all yer troubles away | |
| You know it pleases | |
| Me to unnerve you | |
| With my ukulele | |
| I got a lover | |
| He' s my little baby | |
| I nurse him at the table | |
| ' Cause he says he' s feeble | |
| And pack him up a sundown | |
| In my little rundown | |
| Limousine | |
| My limousine |
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