And a jukebox song ringin in my ears The next thing you know the bartenders pouring, shots are flowin, Got me stone man All i really know is that i should be
holes in ya boat Don't Roll on the Roll Deep team No No No You don't, you only Roll Deep in ya dreams If that's what your tellin me you must be my enemy
angry teenagers Whom if it wasn't for rap to bridge the gap Maybe raised to be racist Who may have never got to see our faces Grace the cover of Rolling Stone
it won't be alright! ('right!) Cause when niggas get the ridin' bitch we ridin all night! (night!) And you'll be amazed ('mazed!) When we get to disrespectin
and so dramatic, where's the love? Why y'all go so much static Is it real for real or all for sales? I'm like, "Shorty you must be sick" We been gettin
it wigging in my flesh and bones he's rollin through avenue with a heart of stone cold blooded man honey lookin for satisfaction it aint over til it'
speak no ingles, play crazy like them Dominicans See cause poppa was a rolling stone He said, son get your gun, it's a war and it's on So y'all go on
crowd be jumpin On my pride it blows like a chemical combustion My real name's Dustin, I spit these customs AKA D-Loc, E-Loc's little cousin Don't be
was rolling blindly on The daylight had not gone She washed her hair among the stones And saw what was to come All this will pass There will be
the road, All I know, Rock and roll ain't dying, about fifteen deep, We hit the streets low ridin. By the time we made it to New Orleans, It must have
ll get in the do, ?°I did it?± Shoo-bee-doo's and all Watchin' the grass around A rollin' round to good old passion rock'n'roll I'll be here in the early
: Mm . . . I think that uh . . . Phyllis: It's so nice to be here with a monster finally . . . Don: It must be uh, her mother and father probably told
twits, they roll their only one cigarette between them. My small cigar's redundant now in the haze of smoking pleasure. Call it a day, Get the hell
kill. We must teach them to be still more independent. c) Mother England Reverie I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone. I have no wish for
ever-door. Man - son of man - buy the flame of ever-life (yours to breathe and breath the pain of living): living BE! Here am I! Roll the stone away
it, hit it? Hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it! The do re, the mi phi, the sol la, the Tito Rocking it, rocking it, yes he is rocking it Tito, rocking it