Shooting Stars
I just wanna thank personal and foremost all the fans,...
Yeah motherfucker!
...for supporting me from day one.
My label,...
Stay right there!
...God, brothers sisters, family members
Definitely everybody I see it
I drove all the way from Detroit
Back seat full of weapons
If I'd got pulled over they'd be dead in seconds
Without a hitch, I arrive on the 405
The Staples Center
Tonight is the grammys... live
Don't got no ticket
but I ain't here to scream and applaud
I've come to kill Chris Brown and shock this industry crowd
Fuck 'em dead in his seat
Blow his guts out of his tux
He beat the hell out his women
And they'r still on his nuts
The fuckin message that is sending
must have a bloody endin
Posing at security but he ain't safe from just pretendin
Bruno Mars on stage, cameras live TV
That bitch forgive him but still
He's gotta die to me
Big record companies, executives VIPs watchin.
Probably cover up his head hookers
Big business applaulin
But the under ground below don't approve
And so he flex he had his chance on top he fucked up
Make room for the next
He stood up to applaud the show put on by Lady Gaga
Blew a cyanide dart into his throat like "gotcha"!
He fell back dead, stuck smilin, eyes open as the night went
They thought he was just dazed happy from all the excitment
But I killed him
What if I shot a Star out the sky
A piggy has to have wings Before it can fly
What If I killed him?
Yeah motherfucker!
...for supporting me from day one.
My label,...
Stay right there!
...God, brothers sisters, family members
Definitely everybody I see it
I drove all the way from Detroit
Back seat full of weapons
If I'd got pulled over they'd be dead in seconds
Without a hitch, I arrive on the 405
The Staples Center
Tonight is the grammys... live
Don't got no ticket
but I ain't here to scream and applaud
I've come to kill Chris Brown and shock this industry crowd
Fuck 'em dead in his seat
Blow his guts out of his tux
He beat the hell out his women
And they'r still on his nuts
The fuckin message that is sending
must have a bloody endin
Posing at security but he ain't safe from just pretendin
Bruno Mars on stage, cameras live TV
That bitch forgive him but still
He's gotta die to me
Big record companies, executives VIPs watchin.
Probably cover up his head hookers
Big business applaulin
But the under ground below don't approve
And so he flex he had his chance on top he fucked up
Make room for the next
He stood up to applaud the show put on by Lady Gaga
Blew a cyanide dart into his throat like "gotcha"!
He fell back dead, stuck smilin, eyes open as the night went
They thought he was just dazed happy from all the excitment
But I killed him
What if I shot a Star out the sky
A piggy has to have wings Before it can fly
What If I killed him?
Credits
Writer(s): Chris Root, Jon Smith, Julianna Stulbach, Jon Wagner
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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