Rasta Stone

I don’t know how to explain my situation
I’m 50% rasta, 50% stone
I really love reggae, I love rock and roll
I love weed and I love alcohol

I read a bit of the Bible, I believe in God
And I love the streets, I’m searching for satisfaction
My musical family is a big fusion
Son of mama reggae, son of papa rock

I’m trying to find a spiritual life
And while I’m searching, I grab a drink at the bar
I learned from Rastafari to fight against the oppressor
And I’m as streetwise as a rolling stone

People don’t understand, they don’t get how I am
Imagine Mick Jagger crossed with Peter Tosh
My musical family is a big fusion
Son of mama reggae, son of papa rock

I’m just telling you, I’m not asking for forgiveness
I’m not proud, but that’s just how I am
I’m just in the picture, I’m not the painter
Life is a theater, and I’m not the actor

I don’t wear a mask, I’m no prophet
I’m just a street kid like you
My musical family is a big fusion
Son of mama reggae, son of papa rock

Son of papa rock, son of papa rock, son of papa rock
Mama reggae, mama reggae, mama reggae, papa rock