[Verse 1] Life took a turn for the better, Im on the right road Im weighed down, Ive never carried a light load A lotta turbulence, bumpy ride on my flight flown I cause a light show every time that the fights on You gotta feel me, its my life that I fight for Cant forget where I been, no tellin where I might go I was flyin no string so the kites gone Searchin through the pain in my story for the right song While the nights long, but the days gone She told me she had had enough, just to stay gone If I could carry more than C notes Id sing songs Awards Ima bring em home Well wake up till the dream is gone [Hook Waylon and Shooter] Fiddles dont make violins Hotel rooms dont make homes Cant turn water into wine Cant make a rock from a rolling stone [Verse 2] Papas a rollin stone, mammas a real angel Walkin behind untangled the web that I had tangled Back an forth across the net like ping pong Im at the door, you hear the doorbell, ding dong The smokes chokin me, tell em clean the bong You got more obstacles for me to jump, then bring them on Im in the field suited up with my cleats on Tryna get up out these streets but keep writin these street songs The heats on, its too hot? Hop up out the skillet You say you Bennet, if you aint in it then you cant feel it I tell the truth in every song so Im incriminated This is me goin toe to toe, Im not intimidated [Hook Waylon and Shooter] Fiddles dont make violins Hotel rooms dont make homes Cant turn water into wine Cant make a rock from a rolling stone But I aint changin regardless [Verse 3] Fame aint gon change me, money aint gon make me Only doin what you would if you could so dont hate me Im carryin ten times of my weight, it wont break me Im somethin new so they dont quite know how to take me Im in a good space, like fuck what they say lately Hatred is an ugly trait an they afraid to face me Youll never find another me so dont replace me Embrace me, Im up against the world, standin bravely Maybe just maybe, one day theyll pay me The respect that Ive earned on the daily since the eighties Over a thousand songs that I may never sing Cause they tellin me right now freedoms bell may never ring [Hook Waylon and Shooter] Fiddles dont make violins Hotel rooms dont make homes Cant turn water into wine Cant make a rock from a rolling stone But I aint changin regardless
waylon, fiddle, violin, shooter, stone