Rolling Stone

Fill the ashtray up with blunts all weekend
I fill my bathtub up with ice and tequila
Fill the whole crib up
With cigarettes and bitches
Had a threesome with some strippers
Woke up with some stitches
I know your boy is on
Some rock star shit, oh, oh
I know I'm headed for some Cobain shit, oh
Oh

Rolling stone (rolling stone)
With grades like that man
You could've been an astronaut
And been just as high
Rolling stone (rolling stone)
With a home like that
You could've been anything
Yeah, but you chose this life

Couple weeks out on the road and
You begin to feel different you're in Paris
Then in London and then in
Berlin with some bitches
Then you make it back to LA and
You do not know the difference
And you fly back into the
Canada and drink because
Depression got you fucked up in the head
Lyin' in your bed
Sleeping while some pretty girl is
Tryna give you head
I know the boy's on his rock star shit, oh
Oh i lit the whole damn club
Up on a Sunday afternoon
And on Monday morning, got a hotel room
And on Monday evening
Man I waited till the crew came
And the very next night
Had the club going up on a Tuesday

Rolling stone with grades like that man
You could've been an astronaut
And been just as high rolling stone (stone)
With a home like that
You could've been anything
Yeah, but you chose this life
Rolling stone (rolling stone)
With a face like that boy
You could've been president
Yeah, but you're just as bad
Rolling stone (rolling stone)
With a heart like that
You could've been anything, yeah
And been just as sad

Rolling stone