Lyrics:
Floating up like balloons
Tire marks on the moon
Tire marks on the moon
We make all the rules
Universe what it do
Tire marks on the moon
Tire marks
Balloon descending
Then I see balloon is burning
Turning round burning
This balloon, burning
Fragments of my life
Falling
Sky of tire
All
or a balloon-y
Crazy bus, come with us
As we ride, ride, ride, ride, ride
It's a crazy bus, not a schmazy bus
Don't make a fuss, just come with us
Sloppy, sloopy,
on mud tires
Back in the day Potts' farm was the place to go
Load the truck up hit the dirt road
Jump the barbwire spread the word
Light the bonfire
ground, and put it on you surfboard so you won't slip off. Try it on your (Jim Bean Boy), and on the, the red balloons, you can blow up all balloons with
Feel like pumpin' it up
We are here to pump you
Pump you up
Like hot air in a balloon, pump you up
We are here to pump you up
We are here to pump
In the city burnin' tires like a motha
Spreading rumors, you been lying like a motha
Thick Latina and she fine then a motha
Ain't no suckas round
in his most sincere tone beg oh please, please, please
Five more minutes on the tire swing
Don't make me stop, it's my favorite thing
Five more
blood
But you can't stay
I'm tires in mud
That churn in place
'Til I let go of you
I let go of gray balloons
We cleared your room
And you left town
You
bites
And I'm balloons, floating, burning, hitting power lines
I know the path to go home
And I'm sure that you don't
Do you trust me enough, to get us
Wood-glue walls, I'm the spare
Half dead batteries you pull from the dusty remote
Donut tires you chew on when your balloon ride goes
The ugly yawning mug
Chanting
Dancing that's fire the way she be rocking waist (Eh eh)
Man no go fit tire if na you when he dey chase (Oyi Oyi)
See the yanch, e be like
me i’m flippin that work it look like mary lou
All my niggas be shooter dey pop like balloons
I bad got a bad hoe baby i need at least 2
I feel 2pac
my head I need to go to the store to get some beets.
To rub all over my feet.
Andy's joke reminded Gerard that his sloth balloon was owned by
(Bangladesh)
No Ceilings, motherfucker
Uh-huh, alright
Uh-huh, alright
Uh
Nice tires on the 'Ghini, you should wanna king me
Brain dead flow,
High rollin baby like I'm jumping on fire
Super Bowl pimp good Year on tire
Can I be a bird, I gotta be fly
Butterfly and spur, and I got a couple
What a situation
I want to take you beside the sea
But I've got no transportation
No tires on the bike and the car's got a leak
I had
Alhaja don dey para
The matter long oh
October 20 2020
Kasala burst like balloon
Kla ta ta ta
Untop my brother and sister
Old papa and mama
Peaceful
And I scream
Oh my brother
And I cry
My eyes are like hot air balloons
Oh how I try to get out there
Αnd into this great
Wild world
Coyote's howling in
High rollin baby like I'm jumping on fire
Super Bowl pimp good Year on tire
Can I be a bird, I gotta be fly
Butterfly and spur, and I got a couple
the belly
Cash Money Makaveli
We get that fetti fellas
We bump that Roc-a-fella
We got it pumpin' holla
Back we crack rocafellas
Nigga my tires better
I'm
priors
Goin' back like black and white TV's with pliers
Leanin' on broke down cars with flat tires
Flash iron on anybody tryin' on the blocks I'm
priors
Goin' back like black and white TV's with pliers
Leanin' on broke down cars with flat tires
Flash iron on anybody tryin' on the blocks I'm
on wheels
His trunk was full a' hub caps
An' his back seat full a' tires
When we picked him up and made him spread his heels
I says, "Hands up-on the wall,
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