Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!
And we on!
(We on!)X4
Yeah, we on!
On and on and on!
Chorus –
Brad:
Acting like I gotta’ hit it one more time,
One more time, one more time!
When I’m already outta’ my mind,
Outta my mind, outta my mind!
One more time, outta my mind,
One more time… and we on!
(We on!)X4
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!
On and on and on!
Brad:
I ain’t in my right mind,
Blame it on them White Lines,
Take a look in my piss test,
Ain’t no telling what you might find,
Seeking trouble at night time,
With a mask, like I fight crime,
Blowing steam like Bruce Banner,
Rocking a ring like Green Lantern,
Dark Knight, and I’m on the road,
Highway to Hell, I’ve been told,
Yellow bricks flip shit to gold,
My soul bout the only thing I ain’t sold,
Chips down… I ain’t fold,
Who the hell said I ain’t cold?
Gave one my heart, gave one my lungs,
That’s how you run a love triangle,
One to give me brain, one to blow it!
Throwing off my equilibrium,
Soon as I light that stogie,
On a flight landing in Libya,
Pimping since a sippy cup,
Hung like Mr. Ed, girl, giddy-up!
As I pursue these trivial things,
Only here once, so I’ma live it up!
(Aaa!)
Chorus –
Fly Ty:
(Yo, yo, yo, uh!)
I’m to’ up, from the flo’ up,
Dynamite flow, Fly ‘bout to blow up,
Ain’t nobody on my level, put the pedal to the metal,
Get a medal every time when I show up,
Like Olympic games, pimp it’s been the same,
Nothing changed, I’ma win it like a pennant game,
290 where you find me rolling J’s,
In my J’s on my way to the stage down at Minute Maid,
And I can’t stop, and I won’t stop,
Getting dome in a Benz with a chrome top,
But I gotta’ hit it one more time, girl you fine,
Double Tree, room 9, baby don’t knock,
Take a bubble bath, see what’s under that,
Double D’s, both hands I don’t fumble that,
Now she want it back, so we gon’ run it back,
Girl I make it wet, KD, bring the Thunder back,
I’m a great white, when I lay pipe,
Keep it going till you moaning in the daylight,
Gotta hit the jackpot, like I cashed out,
Then she passed out, then I left like it ain’t right,
Pussy ain’t tight… when I’m done with it,
Bryan, TX, what I’m repping, you can come get it!
And I got a backpack full of blacks in the back,
And a bag of the dro and I done hit it!
But I gotta hit it one more time,
Nose steady dripping give me one more line,
Goddamn, Ty couldn’t find one more fine,
Got ‘em locked up, could have done more time,
Ain’t nobody wanna’ rap me mayne,
Cleveland fitted what the cap be mayne,
In the booth, Platinum PAT insane,
All the boys in the trap get paid!
Chorus –
Doc Strange:
Ain’t nobody stopping this runaway train,
Walter White, Heisenberg of this dirty rap game,
Chemicals exchange, compounds remain,
My favorite is that tetrahydracannibol, mayne!
Butane brings the flame, ease the pain from ya’ brain,
(Yeah, yeah!) riding dirty, switching lanes,
Sticking to the schedule like a post-it-note,
So high on success, about to overdose,
That’s all she wrote, sang the big-bellied bitch,
Steady moving weight without a trailer hitch,
Ruminate on my rhythm; is it fate or precision?
This medicine man had the wildest vision,
Feel the peyote [whisper],
Mo’ wolf than coyote [Howl],
On the prowl for mine, fuck the measly scraps they throw me,
One with all things, my essence integrates,
Gold-tipped dinner plates, family jewels in the safe,
Impeccable taste, hope ya’ got the night to waste…
Now one mo’ time for ya’ mind,
[Hit blunt, exhale]
You're going to a Strange place…
