Lyrics Bush Pilot - Buck 65

Bush Pilot

We should take a break from the computers and programs
And swing it back to my place for hooters and slow jams
For once.
I’m the type of guy who’ll surprise you with a cool disguise
And act out fantasies with dialogue and school supplies
South American tough nuts to crack open, but I’m determined, slim chance
To make it past the German implants and you-know-whats
Private parts, I’m hoping that you do go nuts and push while it
Happens baby, 'cause I’m the bush pilot
Be the one to tell your friends that you blew the stallion
Wearing nothing but my zulu medalion
And then maybe a pineapple sliced wedge between the labia and clitoris
Gave her a taste of the bitteress flavor in purple rain
Blues and the red whites, me and you can spend nights
Alone in the dark while I’m starin' at your headlights and highbeams
In my dreams with city streets and crosswalks
Pedestrian traffic, and my finger in the saucebox
Graphic with lost socks and underwear, a thousand kinds of Calvin Kleins
I caught you in the backroom with attachments for the vacuum
The syncronized swim team and punk rockers
Anorexic runway models with shrunk knockers
And all of them, with wide legs, the fried eggs and honey mustard
I’m eatin' out instead of buying groceries 'til the money’s busted
'Cause I don’t care, snackin' on your muffin, chewin' one more time
Like nothin' doin', it feels hot where the sun don’t shine
The way I blew your mind, you are not prepared to handle facts
In my command performance while I’m drippin' melted candle wax
Inside the beaver, got you open like a wide receiver
I like the way she licks behind the back when she’s sixty-ninin'