Tekst:
Flying Dust

All my days I had moldy bread Robot brains and the flying airplanes Hollowed out and filled with dust Rocking like a hurricane under the rug Bored to

demon I'm out to Nascar in a fast car to the last car 'Til there ain't no cars left Enough cars go by with enough dust flyin' around to make you cry

I heard could I relate The story was quite clear Woah, woah Ooh, oh baby I been flying Lord yeah mama, there ain't no denyin' Oh, ooh yes, I've been flying

The watch mother pearl weather seashells Pick of the litter, have this nigga picking paper up Twitter thug, I'm the townline strangler Get 'em up, banging dangerous as angel dust

Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince Well thank you thank you Call the bank ooh I'm getting checks and Plenty of sex and Flexin like a texan They desire to dust

' with my misfits Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone Fifty songs tucked under the prone Yeah man Sticky weed kickin' in, big Ball steppin' in Straight flying

, I'll see you, I'll see you on the other side Leaving, I hate to see you cry Grieving, I hate to say goodbye Dust and ash forever, yeah Though I know

mine Better dumb and happy than smart and without any friends Better cute and better loud, better join up with the crowd Keep up or be left behind, there's a dust

bleak terrain It was the hexagram of the heavens, it was the strings of my guitar Amelia, it was just a false alarm The drone of flying engines is a