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Third stone from the sun


House Of Pain Lyrics

 

Third stone from the sun Lyrics

Third stone from the sun by House Of Pain


Here come the pecker

Wood mic wrecker

Sweet like nectar

MC selector

Come again, keep the style I'm bustin'

You think I'm droppin' acid ???only super cold does it???

Feel the rushin' through your blood and cerebellum

And any man that defies, eyes will be swellin'

So whatcha smellin', kid, I'll bust your melon

Then I spit out the seed, you got dirty deeds

You're done, dirt cheap, I'm on the greek don't sleep

Melee cause the circus, but bullets run deep

And talk is cheap, kid, it's time to make moves

It's time to make capital gains with my brains

The song remains, the same as it ever was

And you can say my crew's fallin' but it never does

I'm white chocolate, clockwork apocalypse

Inter-dimensional like Prince be sensual

My interplanetary sub-galactic tactic

Got ya wearin' vests like prophylactics

My verbal waters rock your sons and daughters

And I'll tell more lies than priests and rabbis

And all the allies put together in a cipher

My skin's my cell, no parole on my life


CHORUS:

Doin' time on the third stone from the sun

Lucy got me on the run, kid, hold my gun

I'm dealin' with the pressures, son, life ain't fun

Doin' time on the third stone from the sun


I'll be gettin' down and dirty by 2030

Sippin' off my forty, out deep in your shorty

Lordy, glory, hallelujah

Like a big Samoan my sig's gonna boo ya

Do-a-ditty, oh what a pity

I'm blowin' up the spot like Oklahoma City

We might terrorism and hold plagerism

And blood shot vision 'cause I smoke major 'ism

If you got sob stories, kid, don't tell me 'bout 'em

'Cause them tin boots you wearin' I'm a lift you outta 'em

With two shots to your bid, I ain't playin' kid

I know the games that you runnin' and all the things you did

And you'll say 'holy cow' if my gun go blaow

Click-bang, watch me do my thang

My element's in order, my attribute's eternal

And all you duck MC's are smellin' just like the Colonel

You're all fried chicken with your back side lickin'

I'll play you like a snitch with the ice pick stickin'

Out your eye socket and if I wanna cock it

I play remelzee and pull it out my pocket

I pull it out my pocket, I pull it out my pocket

Yeah, I play remelzee and pull it out my pocket


CHORUS



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