Rollin' On The Island
    (专辑: The Polyfuze Method - 1993)
    
    Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle  Bell-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle   [Wes Chill / 
Prince Vince:]  Hey Kid Rock, tell them how you're living   [Kid Rock:]  Man I 
spend my birthdays at Denny's eating Southern Slams  I'm not a 
butt nut you know that I 
never bang  But I 
lick more coochie than K.D. 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 riding 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 looking  And I 
gotta give it up to my homies in Brooklyn  Romeo, Mt. Clemens to Metro Beach  From Houston, to L.A., 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)   [Kid Rock:]  Now Wes Chill you know we go way back   [Wes Chill:]  Kid Rock I 
remember guzzling 40s and your 4-Track   [Kid Rock:]  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   [Wes Chill:]  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 D.E.T. 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 joking, I'm poking your girl, she loving 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 fucking steel  And watch them hoe's in the 
flow like they was Johnny Gill  On the 
real deal, Wes Chill getting err'one buck whiling  That's how we do it when we 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)   [Kid Rock:]  Now Prince Vince I 
remember hanging in your hood  With the 
40s, hoes, do I 
make myself understood?   [Prince Vince:]  Yeah, I 
put you on them black hoes  They used to like your white ass, your blue eyes and your pointy nose   [Kid Rock:]  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?   [Prince Vince:]  Don't let me catch you sleeping when you rolling 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 motherfucker now your left in red  You're fucking around with a 
straight-up G 
 Now nigga you don't want to see me  Or the K 
to the I 
to the 
motherfucking D 
 Straight Gs from the 
streets  I'm dropping 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 80s  When I 
dropped the 
gangsta funk and drove the 
young niggas crazy  But now were kicking it in the 
90s  And Cruse St. is where the 
niggas will find me  Just cooling with my fellas, slanging 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 
nickel-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 motherfuckers 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)   [Kid Rock:]  I 
got my Harley on the 
highway revving  If a 
whip-it was a 
nipple I'd be lost in heaven  I'm rolling straight 7 
so what up?  Like Bushwick said "You play pussy, get fucked" you're outta luck  'Cause I'm the 
baddest motherfucker 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-knowing the 
mind blowing home growing  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  Choking because you know I 
am a 
 Little long-haired high on, and you can find Kid Rock  In the 
gutter on the 
motherfucking Island   Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle  Belle Isle B-B-Belle Isle  Belle-Belle Isle Bell-Bell-Belle Isle  (Here in Detroit)