| Call you from my car to say I’ll be there in a while
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| Short plane ride and I will get to see your pretty smile
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| Nothing on the radio, I fiddle with the dial
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| Then I see a sign, the airport’s just another mile
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| I check my bags and think about how much I hate to fly
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| And as I near security, I almost start to cry
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| Well, I hope the Law Enforcement Agents can’t tell from my face
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| I’ve got three balloons of coke in an uncomfortable place
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| I’m sweating and I’m nervous and I need a little air
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| Because with four balloons of heroin it’s getting crowded up in there crowded
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| up in there
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| My mind is all a jumble and my blood is cold as ice
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| The dreadful thought of having to unload this merchandise
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| Relax, I say it’s not that bad, it might feel kind of nice
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| Besides, who hasn’t had a finger up there once or twice
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| I must remember, don’t leave any drugs inside the host
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| I did that once and a girl who tossed my salad overdosed
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| Well, I say a little prayer, hail Maria full of grace
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| I’ve got three balloons of coke in an uncomfortable place
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| I’m sweating and I’m nervous and I need a little air
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| And I swear I’m farting lots of blow into my underwear from my derrière
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| I was a little eager when I loaded up my stash
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| Five balloons of ecstasy and six balloons of hash
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| Eight balloons of LSD and nine of sensimilla
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| A box of Chinese fireworks, a Guatemalan child
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| I made it to the gate now, my joy I can’t contain
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| I board the airplane, take my seat in the cockpit of the plane
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| As I taxi down the runway, I get a smile on my face
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| I’ve got three balloons of coke in an uncomfortable place
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| Flight crew, prepare for take off, as I lift us into air
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| And by the way does anyone want to buy a Guatemalan child, from my derrière?
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| I’ve got three balloons
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| I’ve got three balloons
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| I’ve got three balloons |