The Prodigal Sun Returns

P-p-p pa*s the boota, pa*s the boota Cause I wanna get, p-p-p pa*s the boota P-p-p pa*s the boota, cause I wanna get off All the f**kers that are tryin to dis the kid rock You can get shot, but first I'm gonna get hot When it comes to rhyms I got a new caddy Cause you got about as much flavor as a f**kin rice patty Babe, ahh don't quit your day job It lights the way ahh But on the mic I'm god And workin hard for your moneys what I x'ed hoe Cause I wont sell my soul for some wax dipped in cheap gold Par 4 motherf**ker whatcha gonna do 1 wood 7 iron and I'm on the green at 2 With 1 putt I lyin a birdy in the hole I drive the show putt for dough So give it up hoe I get a lot of funny looks I ain't stealin your music, my man I ain't to f**kin crook Your playin dummy with your pride And you cant tell me shit about a funny vibe And all that jive your preachin, it's borin God saved my soul, you save the f**kin rain forest And I'll meet you in hell The prodigal son kid rock I rock well (only time will tell) Well it's been coast from the midway Smokin gra*s and sniffin lines And at first glance you wouldnt guess no I even make my own homemade wine Moonshine, red wine, stir it up, drink it up Roll it up, light it up, toke down, pa*s around Cut it up, light it up, sniff it up, rock it up Gimme a pipe and I just might smoke it Object it, sellect it, clean it, protect it s*ck it in, tie it up, stick it and inject it All night, that's right, pop it drop it Set it on your tongue and then trip til you peak