I was raised on cornbread.

My mama was a good ol' cook and set a table fine
Butter beans, turnip greens and squash straight from the vine,
Seasoned with a little streak o'lean.

Now mama was a southern cook
Her recipes weren't from a book
But her dishes were supreme.

Chorus
We'd all set down and say our blessing
Use our napkin to keep from messing
and mama would pass the cornbread.
That was all that was needed to complete this spread.
I was raised on cornbread.

Sundays we always had the same, Mama cooked fried chicken
Fried okra, candied yams with lots of butter drippin'
Mashed 'taters and gravy on the side.

Hot biscuits were just a mebbe,
Papa liked them with his gravy
but was cornbread that I spied.

Chorus
We'd all set down and say our blessing
Use our napkin to keep from messing
and mama would pass the cornbread.
That was all that was needed to complete this spread.
I was raised on cornbread.

Now mama is gone
I have to make my own
But I still love
Hot buttered cornbread.

Chorus
We'd all set down and say our blessing
Use our napkin to keep from messing
and mama would pass the cornbread.
That was all that was needed to complete this spread.
I was raised on cornbread

Oh I was raised on cornbread.