Kid Rock - Rollin' on the Island lyrics

Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Bell-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle

Hey Kid Rock, tell them how you're livin'

Man I spend my birthdays at
Denny's eatin' Southern Slams
I'm not a butt nut you know that I never bang
But I lick more coochie than KD lang
But I'm not gonna kick an X rated rap
And even if I did you know
That you couldn't fade it, black
Because my rap's like gold, or precious gems
While your rap's like an 8th
Full of beeners and stems, huh
Kid Rock I love to sing
Call me the King of Pain
But my name ain't Sting or Roger Clinton
I'm not ridin' off my brother's fame
Because all you sap-suckers don't even
Know my brother's name
Bill Ritchie, he lives in Chicago
He rides through town in an El Dorado
Mulatto, black, real white's how I'm lookin'
And I gotta give it up
To my homies in Brooklyn
Romeo, Mt clemens to Metro Beach
From Houston, to LA, back to Stoney Creek
Like I said
Roll it up take a hit and then pass it
That's how we do it when we roll down Gratiot
It's guaranteed every time we get hoes
I play on my guitar
Pumped loud through my Pignose
You'll never see me in Thailand
But you can catch Kid Rock on a
Hot day rolling on the Island

Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle
(Here in Detroit)

Now Wes Chill you know we go way back

Kid Rock I remember guzzling 40's
And your 4 Track

Yeah Wes, you're still my man
So, get on the mic and do the best you can

Oh yes, yes y'all, yes y'all
And you don't stop
Oh yes, yes y'all, yes y'all
And ya don't quit
Oh yes, yes y'all, yes y'all
And ya don't stop
Come on Wes, give them what you got

Give me the mic and I'm a
Wreck from the start to end
But gimme brew and gimme gat and
I'm a do you in you talking trash
I smoke that ass so fast you wouldn't know
What hit you bro
So here I got you thought I couldn't flow
To a track laid back by Kid Rock, G
Now even white bitches in the
Suburbs they jock me
With a smile pow wow they
Want this ghetto thing
So pow wow freaky chow, and I'm a let it hang
Born and raised in DET so I'm a let you know
You step wrong I step strong and
I'mma wet ya whole crew
Yo, I thought you knew when
I'd be rolling deep
No fucking Nytol needed to put
Your ass to sleep
I fly heads where there's dreads
Bald heads or curly do's
I screw hoes from Shaniqua on
Down to Curly Sue
You think I'm jokin', I'm pokin' your girl
She lovin' it sugar walls to my balls that
How I'm shoving it
Wham bam, thank you ma'am, a dirty nigga-ro
And if your man wanna trip
I let the trigga go
Pop, pop, pop, pop, now watch that nigga drop
Here go my cellular phone
Somebody call the cops
When they come I won't run
Unload my fuckin' steel
And watch them hoe's in the flow
Like they was Johnny Gill on the real deal
Wes Chill gettin' err'one buck whilin'
That's how we do it when
We rollin' on the Island

Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle
(Here in Detroit)

Now Prince Vince I remember
Hangin' in your hood with the 40's, hoes
Do I make myself understood?

Yeah, I put you on them black hoes
They used to like your white ass
Your blue eyes and your pointy nose

Yeah we pulled hoes in herds (word)
Then I took your black ass out to the suburbs
People don't know about you and me (or unity)
Ain't it funny how were still down in '93?

Don't let me catch you sleepin'
When you rollin' though
Because if you do then I'm going to have
To choose the weapon that I gotta use
And lock my infrared dead on that forehead
Buck, buck
Buck motherfucka now your left in red
You're fuckin' around with a straight-up G
Now nigga you don't want to see me
Or the K to the I to the mother fucking D
Straight G's from the streets
I'm droppin' dope lyrics on
Dope-ass Kid Rock beats
Now I'm gonna kick it like this and like that
I'm kicking a funky track with Kid
Rock because we go way back
Back in the days of the late 80's
When I dropped the gangsta funk and
Drove the young niggas crazy
But now were kicking it in the 90's
And Cruse St is where the niggas will find me
Just cooling with my fellas
Slangin' shit late at night
But the jealous niggas trying to tell us
Slanging yay isn't the way to get paid
But fuck the bullshit all I'm
Thinking about is money that
I gotta get made, I got a pocket full of lint
Too much late former rate
And i gotta rest it
Shit the hookers, the hoe's the takers
The pros
A nickle-plated nina ready to explode
On any nigga trying to jack, rat-a tat tat
Put his ass on his back for the
Now can I keep my style and get wild?
Me, Kid Rock and Wes Chill
Just cooling on the Island
It's like this and like that
I told you mother fuckers better pack a gat

Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle
(Here in Detroit)

I got my Harley on the highway revvin'
If a whip-it was a nipple
I'd be lost in heaven
I'm rollin' straight 7 so what up?
Like Bushwick said "you play pussy
Get fucked" you're outta luck
Cause I'm the baddest mother
Fucker from this time
For breakfast I snort cocaine
And eat pork rinds
Shocking signs is what I'm sowing
I'm the hoe'in
All-knowin' the mind blowin' home growin'
In my backyard
Lying in the sun you know I fry quick
Getting lit when I be smoking that thai-stick
Because that's what the Kid's all about
I like rolling up on hoes and
Screaming "Balls in your Mouth"
From South Alabama, North Montana
I'm smoking and
Chokin' because you know I am a
Little long haired high on
And you can find Kid Rock
In the gutter on the mother fuckin' Island

Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle
Belle-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle
(Here in Detroit)