The Game
The Game - Rolling Stone lyrics
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(Verse) 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 aint bout no games nigga, that's my name Gold grill with a blunt hangin 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 made out Nigga talkin that fuck shit, we just spread out Boy get yo whole motherfuckin hood K'd out I was born in the CP, Tommy on my lap If it's cheese in that hoe you can find me in the trap But when it's snap, give a fuck about a rap Yuck me and Buck back, 7-11 on the crack See a Cadillac? Get the fuck up outta there Grand Theft Auto on a bitch ass nigga Getting 3 up, bring a truck up outta that Then pop bottles, let me hit that nigga Roll blunts the size of this mack I'm in love with the kush, ain't givin that back, trill nigga Smoke til my lungs collapse Pass out with a 5th of that cognac Real niggas gon recognize this G shit Don't come at me with no peace shit That peace shit, that was ââ?¬Ë?89 I get yo ass hit with 89's Motherfucker fore the cops get down, 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 Hook: 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) Ain't shit changed with me nigga Been around the world with the same AK Same clip with mo bodies on it Then hook yo hood with this beef shit Lookin around but nobody want it Niggas know what's up with Buck Get a couple murder cases comin up Shoot first! Molly poppin, that's young niggas All they really wanna do now is so guns 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 Fuckin 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 play the role with you actors When we gon get enough to come after Now send it nigga, I'm going Kendrick nigga You can start the shit but I'mma end it nigga If you getting money better spend it nigga This real life, no pretending nigga Back at it again, fresh out the pen Remember back then? They had to let me in And yall niggas talkin bout cashin out I need a trash bag to put the cash in Hook: Papa was a rollin stone Wherever he laid his hat was his home And when he died all he left us was alone Papa was a rollin' stone, my son Wherever he laid his hat was his home And when he died all he left us was alone (Verse) They told me papa was a rolling stone Like Mick Jagger keep bitches round they whips, Charlie hold it holmes You ain't a poet cus you wrote a poem I am lyrically until these spirits really higher on the totem pole I get the cheese, cheddar mozzarella American, moderate, jack, swizz, feta, mars the prevalone I bring a nigga down limb by limb Blood sweat tears molecules flesh then show my chromosomes Jim star, raise it fo yo dome With a hole in yo face shot just like Macaulay Culkin Home Alone Tote the chrome and spark blast with a dark mask, tryna pop trash, blowin at yo motor home I'm on LeBron, catch you bitchin on my block I'mma knock it out the park Babe Ruth, go and throw it go I grab his bones squeeze 3, brought him like DD, you PC no ET in fully home Guantanamoââ?¬Â¦ all of yall fucked up Young Buck, roll em holmes Have a glass of murda, have em grab the burner I'm so nice, can see these rappers cry so loaners My way fowl, don't convert you have a jazz converter You need bigger hard drives, I'mma crash yo server I was raised with the killers in a class of burglars I've been the truth in the booth go and ask the jugger This is annihilation, you niggas violatin, won't die hatin, getting shots like immunization I'm sendin vibrations that could shake a wise nation And if the devil was a liar then you gon die satan You ever disrespect my brother soldiers You gon see a bunch of Rolls with tints, throw em in the cellar Blood on my hands so blood money low You got blood on yo hands cus you a cutthroat Hook: Papa was a rollin stone Wherever he laid his hat was his home And when he died all he left us was alone Papa was a rollin' stone, my son Wherever he laid his hat was his home And when he died all he left us was alone