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Rolling Stones Connection

of y'all misses See I know how to control my hennessy I speak no Ingles, play crazy like them Dominicans See 'cause poppa was a rolling stone He said

New York night Rossi and Martini sippin', Sergio Tachinni flippin' mad pies Low price, I blow dice and throw 'em Forty-five by my scrotum, manifest the, "Do or Die" slogan My niggaz roll

I done came up Now you can find me with the finest ho's Choosin' which whip to drive by what match my clothes I got a fetish for the stones, I'm heavy

respect shit from north to east Well connected with the west It's the 3rd Coast creepin' 'round the corner Rockin' birds, sippin' serb, puffin' marijuana Screwed-Up Click roll

up Gotti and this little war you pushed on Put your ear to the ground for stucky and bush stones What's wrong? Didn't think we strong with real niggaz? Roll

that's how we roll, oh, oh You know I'm well known like Al Capone Fully blown like Ton' Montana In a zone, sittin' on chrome, stoned sippin' on cham

my ray gun scoping, you're hoping Uniforms be fridged when they walk the black beat In the heat, of razors exposin' fresh meat In bedrock and gambling, rolling stone

is a nine Every chick I fuck with is a dime I'm like Patti Labelle, homie, I'm on my own Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a Rolling Stone Cross my

We world wide connected And ya'll don't want to fuck with us In the streets we respected So ya'll don't want to fuck wit us World wide connected nigga