Lyrics

We’re the kings of the sky, ridin' thunder and flame,
Seven-Ten Goatherders, you remember the name.
Crackin’ clouds in an F-16, screamin’ low,
Droppin’ truth from the sky like a goddamn show.

In the pitch-black night, or the desert heat,
I got missiles to launch and a war drum beat.
One eye on the radar, other on the prize,
Shepherd in my ear sayin’, “Light up the skies!”

We go BOOM when we drop, WHOOSH when we fire,
Rockets in the pipe and the target’s on fire.
From the hills to the valleys, we bring that pain,
F-18 screamin’ like a hellhound train.

We ain’t no cowboys — we’re sky-ridin’ lords,
Goatherders, baby, with steel and chords.
So bow your head or get out the way,
‘Cause we herd with jets and we sure don’t play.

Bomb bay doors open wide...
Mother nature gonna run and hide...
Steel birds screamin' in a blood-red sky...
Hear that call? It’s your last goodbye...

Got a goat on my patch, pride in my chest,
When I fly with my crew, we don't settle for less.
F-16 rolls, engines singin’ my song,
One push of a button and your ass is gone.

We go BOOM when we drop, WHOOSH when we fire,
Rockets in the pipe and the target’s on fire.
From the hills to the valleys, we bring that pain,
F-18 screamin’ like a hellhound train.

Seven-Ten, yeah, we ride or die,
Goatherders forever, burnin’ holes in the sky.
So raise a glass, and raise some hell —
You mess with the herd, you hear the shepherd yell...

"Fox three… GOODBYE!."