The 3rd Kind - Shooting Stars lyrics
[The 3rd Kind - Shooting Stars lyrics]
We need to stop killin’ these rappers
The body bags are pilin’ up
The feds are gonna catch us
When they smell the dank
They’ll be sendin’ for back up
Then I’m on the run, fixed gear
Peddlin’ backwards suicide, it's a suicide
PE, we got these niggas running like suicides
Spittin’ old school raps like Puma Clyde’s
Killuminati flow
Right here is where the truth lies
No blonde hair or blue eyes
I ain’t getting blinded by this world
I’m too wise
Roger that, we wavy like shark attacks
And stocking caps and Don King
No boxing match
They said I was too fat for spittin’
So I took it back
Came with that boom bap appearance
Shit is from my lyrics
Come and hear it in my spirit
And I plan to leave the game before
My child can come and hear it
From grade school
We been trained in that trade, fool
That’s why I handle Pro Tools
Like trade school precision in rhyme
Made cuts like a blade jewels
Christian in ‘93
Heard me kicking in the womb cradle robbing
And made it entitled until we common
My ancestry foul
So I’m following my forefathers
Polishing my classic shit
Archaeologists, just bury me in
The land of kings, where my father rest
Damn son, we shining over the trees
They fell from these seeds
Something like our grandsons
And when it comes to flows
Pro’s got 'em in the bag
Taking over the field like pollen in a draft
Scarecrow niggas quick to stick
You in the back
Cash bring Judas and Brutus out, beware yo
Damn homie, this that shit for your soul
Pro’s, been running underground
Like the railroad
The man in the mirror couldn't stop me
I'm a shooting star
Homie your top speed is mach 3
Shooting stars
Hopping rooftops with Jakk and Pow P
Just don't let the cops see
Don’t let the cops see
The body bags are pilin’ up
The feds are gonna catch us
When they smell the dank
They’ll be sendin’ for back up
Then I’m on the run, fixed gear
Peddlin’ backwards suicide, it's a suicide
PE, we got these niggas running like suicides
Spittin’ old school raps like Puma Clyde’s
Killuminati flow
Right here is where the truth lies
No blonde hair or blue eyes
I ain’t getting blinded by this world
I’m too wise
Roger that, we wavy like shark attacks
And stocking caps and Don King
No boxing match
They said I was too fat for spittin’
So I took it back
Came with that boom bap appearance
Shit is from my lyrics
Come and hear it in my spirit
And I plan to leave the game before
My child can come and hear it
From grade school
We been trained in that trade, fool
That’s why I handle Pro Tools
Like trade school precision in rhyme
Made cuts like a blade jewels
Christian in ‘93
Heard me kicking in the womb cradle robbing
And made it entitled until we common
My ancestry foul
So I’m following my forefathers
Polishing my classic shit
Archaeologists, just bury me in
The land of kings, where my father rest
Damn son, we shining over the trees
They fell from these seeds
Something like our grandsons
And when it comes to flows
Pro’s got 'em in the bag
Taking over the field like pollen in a draft
Scarecrow niggas quick to stick
You in the back
Cash bring Judas and Brutus out, beware yo
Damn homie, this that shit for your soul
Pro’s, been running underground
Like the railroad
The man in the mirror couldn't stop me
I'm a shooting star
Homie your top speed is mach 3
Shooting stars
Hopping rooftops with Jakk and Pow P
Just don't let the cops see
Don’t let the cops see