Lyrics:
Rolling Stones Looking Tired

You're readin' the cover of a pseudo paperback Displays about writers, Chaucer to Steinbeck You're lookin' tired babe, sittin' there on the side You're lookin' tired

so tired of living a dream For some other day I'm gonna take the Stone of Sisyphus I'm gonna roll it back to you Wall of stone around the two of us

Mama always told me not to look into the eye's of the sun But mama, that's where the fun is Some brimstone baritone anticyclone rolling stone preacher

was that?" Girl thats Juvenile you don't know'em he on fire 17 inch momos black magic on his tires Crushed out stoned, plushed out homes, cellular phones

late phone calls Wheat paste and concrete walls Go too far, live too long Time's too short, right and wrong Block after block Block after block Roll down gates look

Doin' thirty-five, smokin' fire, makin' a right I'm doin' thirty now, riskin' my life Both clients on my cell phone, typin' on my two-way Rollin a blunt, still drivin', lookin

hotties seen me in that four door ridey Double pipes like a sawed off shotty, nigga (IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?) [Verse 4 - Joe Budden] Look, I flow sickly, ridin, bumpin old Biggie Roll

told me not to look into the eye's of the sun But mama, that's where the fun is Some brimstone baritone anticyclone rolling stone preacher from

wandering, I've seen Greece and Rome Lost in the wilderness, so far from home Yeah, yeah I've been to Africa, looking for my soul And I feel like an actor looking