Rolling Stone

[Verse 1: The Game]

Nigga pull up, hop out the Cutlass, tell a nigga fuck this

I ain’t toleratin' no fuck shit

Wifey at the halfway house, with a bitch with her ass hanging halfway out

I ain't bout no games nigga, that's my name

Gold grill with a blunt hanging halfway out

Nigga can’t tell me shit

Unless he got hits and then he can tell me how them hash weigh out

Crib laid out like a pimp here, your bitch there on a bed laid out

Nigga talkin' that fuck shit, we just spray out

Boy, get yo whole motherfuckin' hood K’d out

I was born in the C-P, Tommy on my lap

If it’s cheese in that hoe, you could find me in the trap

But when it’s snap, give a fuck about a rap

Yup, Me and Buck back, 7-eleven on the crack

See a car I like, get the fuck up outta there

Grand Theft Auto on a bitch ass nigga

Get the tow yard, pull a truck up outta that

Then pop bottles, let me hit that nigga, roll blunts the size of this MAC

I’m in love with the kush, I ain’t givin' that back, trill nigga

Smoke 'til my lungs collapse, pass out with a fifth of that Cognac

Real nigga gon' recognize this G shit

Don’t come at me with no peace shit

That peace shit, that was ‘89, I get yo ass hit with 89’s

Motherfucker 'fore the cops get there, nigga, J’s comin' off

Drive off with the K’s runnin' off

Fly home, tuck my sons into bed, kiss my daughter on the head

And leave a note by her motherfuckin' bed

[Chorus]

Papa was a rolling stone

Wherever he laid his hat was his home

And when he died all he left us was alone

Papa was a rolling stone, my son

Wherever he laid his hat was his home

And when he died all he left us was alone

[Verse 2: Young Buck]

Ain’t shit changed with me nigga

Been around the world with this same AK

Same clip with more bodies on it

Then hook yo hood with this beef shit

Lookin' around, don't nobody want it

Niggas know what’s up with Buck

Beat a couple murder cases comin' up, shoot first

Molly poppin', that’s young niggas

All they really wanna do now is do dirt

Movin' on and I’m gone, papa got a brand new home

And I’m not lookin' back, I’m just cookin' crack

Until I get back where I belong

My bitch leave brains all on my seat

But these niggas blood all on my hands

Been ridin' up and down these streets

Fucking as many niggas I can, shotgun shell still in my leg

Got a few racks still on my head

Gotta stay strapped now, they handicapped now

Fuck niggas who’s stealin' my bread

Had to buy a graveyard for just trappers

Ain’t got a funeral home for you rappers

Know I can't play the role with you actors

When we gone they'll be nothin' to come after

Now send it, nigga, I’m going Kendrick, nigga

You can start the shit but I'ma end it, nigga

If you gettin' money, better spend it, nigga

This real life, no pretendin', nigga

Back at it again, fresh out the pen

Remember back then? They had to let me in

And ya'll niggas talkin' 'bout cashin' out

I need a trash bag to put the cash in

[Chorus]

Papa was a rolling stone

Wherever he laid his hat was his home

And when he died all he left us was alone

Papa was a rolling stone, my son

Wherever he laid his hat was his home

And when he died all he left us was alone

[Verse 3: Papoose]

Papoose, Papoose

They told me papa was a rollin' stone

Like Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Ronnie Wood, Charlie-hold it, holmes

You ain't a poet 'cause you wrote a poem

I am lyrically, mentally, spiritually higher on the totem pole

I get the cheese, cheddar, mozzarella, American, monterey jack, swiss, feta, muenster, provolone

I break a nigga down limb by limb

Blood, sweat, tears, molecule, flesh tissue, and chromosomes

Gemstar razor pull your dome

Leave you hole in your face, shot, just like Macaulay Culkin, Home Alone

I tote the chrome, let it spark, blast with a dark mask

Trailer park trash, blow it out your motorhome

I order chrome, catch you pitchin' on my block

I'ma knock it out the park

Babe Ruth, goin', goin', gone

I broke his balls, squeeze three, burn 'em like V.D

You P.C., no E.T. ain't phonin' home

Gun tucked, what, what?

Fuck, fuck all of y'all

Fucked up, duck

Yo, Buck, welcome home

Paragraphs of murder, had to grab the burner

I'm so nice, could teach a rappin' class for learners

My WAV files don't convert, you [?] jazz converter

You need bigger hard drive, Pap'll crash your server

I was raised with the killers in a class of burglers

I been the truth in the booth, go and ask a [?]

This is annihilation

You niggas violatin' gon' die hatin', gettin' shots like immunization

I'm standin' by, fresh as [?] nation

And if the devil was a liar, then you gon' die, Satan

You ever disrespect my [?] soldiers, you gon' see a bunch of wolves with Tims, open a soda

Blood on my hands for blood money, low

You got blood on your hands 'cause you a cut throat

[Chorus]

Papa was a rolling stone

Wherever he laid his hat was his home

And when he died all he left us was alone

Papa was a rolling stone, my son

Wherever he laid his hat was his home

And when he died all he left us was alone