Highs 2 Lows Nujabes (Ft. Cise Starr)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Highs 2 Lows" by Nujabes (Ft. Cise Starr). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1]
Individual stars float in an ocean of God
Rocking a pinky ring of Saturn while I'm visiting Mars
Egos bigger than Jupiter are breaking the bars
Holding me back down to Earth through physical laws
Touching the moon, grace as I ready resume
Comets flying through space, bringing possible doom
Blocking the Sun, bring a holocaust on the world
I'm talking back to Father Time, Mother Earth is my girl
I got the wings of angels walking down the valley of death
Watching my step ‘cause The Devil's never one to respect
Come correct on the studio track, taking it back
To the pen and pad, I blast the original rap
Brother on the b-boy tip
With Krylon spit, I tag the charts with the graphical hits
So who you fucking with? Arm, leg, leg to arm, head
Snapping your neck back while you spit out a Pez
I be the original son of a bitch, hurting your wrist
‘Cause you spinning my shit so much the needle skip
Flip to the rhythm and reminisce
Remember the days of '94—hip hop was a gift (OK)
Words out of her lips came straight from the heart
Never prepackaged or bought for negative thought
Peddled to consumers, magazines, and rumors
Commercial spots turn real artists to looters
Precise rap, rock and roll; Nigga, let’s do this
I'll float through notes, break beats with my maneuvers
Individual stars float in an ocean of God
Rocking a pinky ring of Saturn while I'm visiting Mars
Egos bigger than Jupiter are breaking the bars
Holding me back down to Earth through physical laws
Touching the moon, grace as I ready resume
Comets flying through space, bringing possible doom
Blocking the Sun, bring a holocaust on the world
I'm talking back to Father Time, Mother Earth is my girl
I got the wings of angels walking down the valley of death
Watching my step ‘cause The Devil's never one to respect
Come correct on the studio track, taking it back
To the pen and pad, I blast the original rap
Brother on the b-boy tip
With Krylon spit, I tag the charts with the graphical hits
So who you fucking with? Arm, leg, leg to arm, head
Snapping your neck back while you spit out a Pez
I be the original son of a bitch, hurting your wrist
‘Cause you spinning my shit so much the needle skip
Flip to the rhythm and reminisce
Remember the days of '94—hip hop was a gift (OK)
Words out of her lips came straight from the heart
Never prepackaged or bought for negative thought
Peddled to consumers, magazines, and rumors
Commercial spots turn real artists to looters
Precise rap, rock and roll; Nigga, let’s do this
I'll float through notes, break beats with my maneuvers
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