Lyrics Brb - Dumbfoundead, Andrew Garcia

Brb

Fire up the jet pack, no plans to land or head back.
Stacking bread,
jackin' cheese off a trap of dead rats
Flap my wings and sweat raps, the captain needs a wet nap.
Get the Zags,
and blunt wraps.
Grab the swisher gut that
Pack your bags, get some traction blasting off the launch pad.
You might get
the ashes on you I don’t think you want that
Ain’t gotta help me up I did that for my drunk dad, been there done that I
don’t need to flaunt that
I’m on that grown shit, blow dro smoke spliffs.
Four door space shuttle out the
O-zone, shit
I don’t fly coach I coach folks on fly-ness.
Boatloads of dope flows,
hope flows, the tides in. Gold touch of Midas post up and light it
Get toasty, stay crispy like a roast duck that’s flying.
I’m in the sky and I
ain’t sure when I’ll be coming down
Go ahead without me I’ll be on the next shuttle out
(Chorus)
Haven’t been home in a minute, so independent no, and no way to know wher I’m
going.
but I’m gonna be right back
Flown to the limits, always been a mission.
So distant.
I keep missing my
flights back.
but I’m gonna be right back
(Dumbfoundead)
Looking for a Co-captain, nice ass, blows grass.
Don’t ask, and don’t trip.
Closed lips and no captions
Flown solo the road’s lonely when dough’s stackin'.
Too many hoes that wanna
row the moat after.
I want passion a fly girl I won’t crash it
The whole road to ourselves, yeah we both travelin'.
Coast to coast toast Rose'
with cold glasses
We won’t fasten our seat belts, we’re so bad.
We’re punk rock Ramones jacket
and sunglasses.
Boeing 7−47 watch it float past ya
Overheads, man my flow so N.A.S.A.
Shit is breath taking.
The flow so asthma.
First class smash definition of the word swag
Earth below my Chucks catch me up where the birds at.
That’s in the sky and I
ain’t sure when I’ll be coming down
Go ahead without me I’ll be on the next shuttle out