drive-in can't be beat now Made from brontosaurus, baby, not a moo-cow Wanna chill with a saber tooth tiger Wear a loincloth, natural fiber Be the first Rolling Stone
world was gonna love me, without a doubt I was sure that Tarantino would be callin' me on the phone Annie Leibovitz would shoot me for Rolling Stone
buzz on: Olde, Gold, P.M., and Ides I dip the joint into the brew so I can get high And well, ya know what they say I need a swig a day with ? Down with
a rolling stone 15 I was grown, 16 I was holding my own Is it wrong to sell you a dream, or sell you a zone A long way from home, on this road I roam
wit ya own blade The chrome raise, put ya guts on ya own leg Nigga I'm sick o' them full-blown AIDS And my block got more rocks, than the stone age You
sex her But you're standing on the wall like you was Poindexter Next days function high class luncheon Food they're serving, you're stone-cold munchin' Music comes on
when I'm on the road She don't like it when I'm on the road Turn up the radio Play 'A Horse With No Name' Ten miles to the show We're running late in
Wear I Went And Hit The Mall Tuesday And Bought Like 50 Pair I Leave The Tag On The Back To Show You They Fresh As Hell 50 Bucks On Them Taxes Man
'84 Baritz and it's sittin' on glass I'm a young pimp nigga with a whole lotta swagger And I roll like a stone like my name Mick Jagger Pussy niggas
Workin' since ninety-fo', I'm supposed to blow Blow on the dice, before I roll a ten-to-fo' Rollin mo-mos, optimos, they burn slow Rollin fo'-do's, sippin' mo' with
the muddy Mississippi might sink you, man I'm getting brains in the Range with the brains blown out With TV's, the wood grain and them thangs rolled
Hit it Hit it Hit it Coolin' with the posse, playin' it hard Rollin' two deep as I drop the top Beams from the sun light up the city As I roll through
keith just laughed Afrika's with sam, holdin on to his seat As sam does ninety to a new bush beat Arrive to the show with no time to spare Check in the
and get low on the streets And I ain't rollin' with heat I want legal doe So I spray flows on the beat But I still get caught up with shit on the road
out the blunt Amateur of blunt-rollers are like rookies on the field Spilling the weed plant fucking dookies with no skill I should write a book, how to roll
it takes, cush, bud, hash, cakes Smoke filled room when the hits take place I becoming mad, stoned on the phone with Tommy Chong Beatin' on my chest,
fuck with Shady (Why?) 'Cause Shady, will fuckin' kill you" Bitch I'ma kill you! Like a murder weapon, I'ma conceal you In a closet with mildew, sheets, pillows and film you Fuck with
the bed with his girlfriend kids And I'm scared to tell my momma cause I might not live I guess that you can say that Poppa was a Rolling Stone But me