Rolling Stone

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conVIth

5:17

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Give him no weed, just give him some sugar
Give him some water and give him some chicken
Give him some cookies and give him that cereal
Give him some cereal
Give him no weed, just give him some sugar
Give him some water and give him some chicken
Give him some cookies and give him that cereal
All I need for my burial
Now when you visit this loner for his funeral
Bring mixtapes, old CDs of Shakur and Hov
He don't need your company, he need a record player
He been waitin' long to decorate the walls of his grave
He a man, when he shed tears, he really broken
He was sad and he bled, wished his city hold him
Used to you, used to lose to you, used to losin' you too, the two of you
The ruthless cupids shootin' on the behalf of the devil in the suit, the boss booze
Was it fuckin' love? Or was it love fuckin' you after gettin' the draws loose
Bring him pictures of his ma, father, brother
He don't wanna hear or miss 'em when they ask him to come up
He wants to sit in the pit and just start smokin'
He wants his pen and pad to write about his old friends
Money no problem anymore, no dollar can open up this door
No sunny days just like he wanted, he tired of warmin' up with rays of false hope
His hands on her waist and time's hands on his neck
He missed his chance to dance with her, she both lust and death
The first-born, more attachment
His first prom, a Macbeth
No guns drawn but imagine a Mac-10
New bedroom, a casket
Forever cuttin' off his phone, the receiver's busy
Put poisonous cologne to keep the snakes dizzy
A murderous performance, ex's lake drippy
No, never to moisturous mourning, he don't mix his whiskey
Which is on his stone, his heart is stone
He rolls it, stones then he rolls in stones
I wrote in stone, I wrote in stone
I'm a rolling stone, I'm a rolling stone
I wrote in stone, I wrote in stone
I'm a rolling stone, I'm a rolling stone
The riders, the bitches, the blunt providers
The classics, the wishlists that were burnt in the fire
Brought to the cremation which was rejected by him
Wants to be submitted all rotten, he believes it's gon' inject elation
His skeleton's smile is better than what pretty faces got on' em, apparent deprivation
Take his heart and break his fingers except the right middle
Leave behind the black ring, don't fiddle with it
It ain't just an accessory or property but a statement
Adjust it properly, his chain meant something different
When alive but what it mean now?
Riddle planned for y'all to solve while in the meantime he gets absolved
His issues resolve, he gets dissolved in the sand
The same one that kept fallin' out of his hand, like time
And no sickle can cut the weed grown on this land which is owned by none
Where an hourglass stands with the precious seconds collected
That were neglected chasin' acceptance from some special one
The pseudo leadership qualities, kudos to the greedy dick's monarchy
Leadin' him to anarchy
A deacon spendin' money just on parties
A fuckin' bunker to keep his big trophies protected from who he suspected
Low-key it's mentioned
On his stone, his heart is stone
He rolls it, stones then he rolls in stones
I wrote in stone, I wrote in stone
I'm a rolling stone, I'm a rolling stone
I wrote in stone, I wrote in stone
I'm a rolling stone, I'm a rolling stone
A narrow escape from the Babylon
Where robbin' was the only option when the card decline
Where straight is the only norm and genders can't recline
The red and blue goblins knockin' your eye black and blue if you color blind
No reason but just ugh addicted to nicotine, real love ain't nowhere to be seen
More money, honey moans, touch and go licks like these dick spirited
Stick figure-ish shits play with the clitoris of hypocritical chicks
Bitch, bandana for all 7 days of the week in the grave, Makaveli
Dreamin' of whips like my brain is trucking the chevy
Treason committed by real life daily while I'm blamin' the crazy on psychedelics
Feelin' empty inside wishin' I could feel shit
It's the whiskey talkin', it says ice could fill it
The tux is slightly linen, tightly fitted
Socks nicely knitted, sight-free tinted shades
Tat on the face of Wesley Snipes, I wisely picked it
Taxes won't be paid when I go to rest, I'll be acquitted despite the prison sentence
Entrance barricaded to where I exited
The traits I exhibited got me here so don't be surprised it's written
On his stone, his heart is stone
He rolls it, stones then he rolls in stones
I wrote in stone, I wrote in stone
I'm a rolling stone, I'm a rolling stone

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer