P-P-P pass the boota, pass the boota
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Cause i wanna get, P-P-P pass the boota
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P-P-P pass the boota, cause i wanna get off
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All the fuckers that are tryin to dis the Kid Rock
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You can get shot, but first i'm gonna get hot
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When it comes to rhyms i got a new Caddy
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Cause you got about as much flavor as a fuckin rice patty
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Babe, ahh dont quit your day job
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It lights the way ahh
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But on the mic i'm God
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And workin hard for your moneys what i x'ed hoe
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Cause i wont sell my soul for some wax dipped in cheap gold
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Par 4 motherfucker whatcha gonna do
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1 wood 7 iron and i'm on the green at 2
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With 1 putt i lyin a birdy in the hole
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I drive the show putt for dough
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So give it up hoe
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I get a lot of funny looks
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I aint stealin your music, my man
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I aint to fuckin crook
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Your playin dummy with your pride
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And you cant tell me shit about a funny vibe
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And all that jive your preachin, it's borin
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God saved my soul, you save the fuckin rain forest
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And i'll meet you in hell
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The prodigal son Kid Rock i rock well
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(only time will tell)
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Well it's been coast from the midway
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Smokin grass and sniffin lines
|
And at first glance you wouldnt guess no
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I even make my own homemade wine
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Moonshine, Red wine, stir it up, drink it up
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Roll it up, light it up, toke down, pass around
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Cut it up, light it up, sniff it up, rock it up
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Gimme a pipe and i just might smoke it
|
Object it, sellect it, clean it, protect it
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Suck it in, tie it up, stick it and inject it
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All night, that's right, pop it drop it
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Set it on your tongue and then trip til you peak
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-----------------
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The Prodigal Sun Returns
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| Kid Rock |
