Flight crew, please prepare for takeoff
I like to swim out to sea, jump on the first sinking ship I see
It's probably why you might be thinking something's wrong with my psyche
I might just be bad at strategy, or maybe I just enjoy knowing
I can keep bailing the boat without rowing
But it still won't go down as bad as going up in a Boeing
I wouldn't be surprised if the flight didn't survive
The first track of tarmac
Check the farmer's almanac
Cause this season's supposed to see an increase
In planes raining down from on high
So sky moguls, hold on tight to your wallets, grab an alibi
Cause people might be starting to notice
Forget trying to fly
Just deploy your wing blowups and float us
Who's in charge of the fuselage
Cause it's rattling and I saw two screws unlodge
When you bozos flew through the ozone
And hit a whole flock of pterodactyls
During your terrible lack of tactical practice
Maniacal act of acrobatics that you called a takeoff
If you hit even one little seagull
This shitty hull's gonna give
Just let the birds live
You made it fully clear there's only one Sully
So why even wait
Your plan is plain to see
Like covert ops and cops in the 80s
Just release the Kraken on us crazies
Yes, a beverage Yoda wants
Now get my soda while I strip off my socks
And let out the gophers
Cause we're a go-for, taking off my loafers
Let me rest my seraph fonts on your headrests and paper coasters
How and why does it feel like I get closer to Hades
With every mile we climb up in this bottle full of rabid babies
And what am I even doing
Harpooning, over the Tigris Euphrates
In the Sky Tycoon's cash cow
Going over the moon, in an A320
Gunning through space in a cut and paste
Paper mache mess
With rubber bands holding the hatch in place
How it stays in space is anyone's guess
Since it's older than me
Cause it was born in the late 80s
But it's all in the interest of the bare budget shareholder
Rockefeller and Rockeladies
And here I am now
Saving them cash, by getting on a craft
That last passed an inspection
When Reagan was winning an election
I don't even care no more
I have no fear
Just get me off this damn scare bus
There's too many air holes
Letting in the atmosphere
Happy I can afford it?
I'd be happier in a broken down Ford
If it meant I wasn't gonna die in space
Trying to hear some hint of a bass
In these tiny ass earbuds
That play a range, of 400 hertz
Tuned with actual forks
That go out in spurts
And I'm annoyed cause they're corded
And we all look like dorks
America let me bend your ear for a second or a week
Looking at the going survival rate
Of a Boeing flight of late is bleak
I'd rather fly out on a Griffin's beak
And show up with bruises and fleas
Smelling like broiled chicken feet for weeks
Just my luck
I find I'm surrounded by rows of
Colonel Sanders
Ned Flanders corn shucks
Minus the poultry, revolting
Like the last season of
Duck Dynasty
Kinda seem
Like the problem causers
With the essence of a dark drama
Like the reboot of Fresh Prince
That nobody asked for, or even wanted
Some troglodyte mother
With her three identical offspring
Turns around and says pardon me
I tell the bitch to shut up
Princess Buttercup
I don't give a f*ck
Go ahead and mind your business
Audrey, Becca, Liz
Whatever the heck your, name is
Why are you even participating in air travel
With your horde of bat shit crazy rascals
Shouldn't you be swerving across nine lanes of traffic
While live-streaming your morning routines and habits?
Shouldn't we be making van-life vlogs
Like the rest of your generational pedigree
So your kids can grow up
Needing Prozac and therapy?
If I need a plan to ditch this tin can
I can always stand, on this helicopter mom
And fly off like nothing's wrong
She's fueled by some different shit
And I bet I get, halfway to Boston
Before she has to stop and
Pretend to homeschool the kids
What do you mean you give them a Travelcation?
Enjoy the SAT kids
I'm sure you'll ace them
Then what's a vacation
Feels like it'd be anything I could do
To escape the situation
Drove everybody I know crazy
With the thoughts in my head
I hate driving
But I'd sooner drive right through the lobby
Of the police department
So the cops can stop me
Lock me
Behind reinforced steel and lead rebar
So before I ever get in the air
On a wing and a prayer
With nothing to eat but a Heath bar
I'd have to be certifiable
Before I'll ever
Sign up to be that high in the sky
I'll stick to driving instead
Next time I'm flying
I better be already dead
Erinem - Takeoff Freestyle Lyrics
Erinem - Takeoff Freestyle Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
Flight crew, please prepare for takeoff
I like to swim out to sea, jump on the first sinking ship I see
It's probably why you might be thinking something's wrong with my psyche
I might just be bad at strategy, or maybe I just enjoy knowing
I can keep bailing the boat without rowing
But it still won't go down as bad as going up in a Boeing
I wouldn't be surprised if the flight didn't survive
The first track of tarmac
Check the farmer's almanac
Cause this season's supposed to see an increase
In planes raining down from on high
So sky moguls, hold on tight to your wallets, grab an alibi
Cause people might be starting to notice
Forget trying to fly
Just deploy your wing blowups and float us
Who's in charge of the fuselage
Cause it's rattling and I saw two screws unlodge
When you bozos flew through the ozone
And hit a whole flock of pterodactyls
During your terrible lack of tactical practice
Maniacal act of acrobatics that you called a takeoff
If you hit even one little seagull
This shitty hull's gonna give
Just let the birds live
You made it fully clear there's only one Sully
So why even wait
Your plan is plain to see
Like covert ops and cops in the 80s
Just release the Kraken on us crazies
Yes, a beverage Yoda wants
Now get my soda while I strip off my socks
And let out the gophers
Cause we're a go-for, taking off my loafers
Let me rest my seraph fonts on your headrests and paper coasters
How and why does it feel like I get closer to Hades
With every mile we climb up in this bottle full of rabid babies
And what am I even doing
Harpooning, over the Tigris Euphrates
In the Sky Tycoon's cash cow
Going over the moon, in an A320
Gunning through space in a cut and paste
Paper mache mess
With rubber bands holding the hatch in place
How it stays in space is anyone's guess
Since it's older than me
Cause it was born in the late 80s
But it's all in the interest of the bare budget shareholder
Rockefeller and Rockeladies
And here I am now
Saving them cash, by getting on a craft
That last passed an inspection
When Reagan was winning an election
I don't even care no more
I have no fear
Just get me off this damn scare bus
There's too many air holes
Letting in the atmosphere
Happy I can afford it?
I'd be happier in a broken down Ford
If it meant I wasn't gonna die in space
Trying to hear some hint of a bass
In these tiny ass earbuds
That play a range, of 400 hertz
Tuned with actual forks
That go out in spurts
And I'm annoyed cause they're corded
And we all look like dorks
America let me bend your ear for a second or a week
Looking at the going survival rate
Of a Boeing flight of late is bleak
I'd rather fly out on a Griffin's beak
And show up with bruises and fleas
Smelling like broiled chicken feet for weeks
Just my luck
I find I'm surrounded by rows of
Colonel Sanders
Ned Flanders corn shucks
Minus the poultry, revolting
Like the last season of
Duck Dynasty
Kinda seem
Like the problem causers
With the essence of a dark drama
Like the reboot of Fresh Prince
That nobody asked for, or even wanted
Some troglodyte mother
With her three identical offspring
Turns around and says pardon me
I tell the bitch to shut up
Princess Buttercup
I don't give a f*ck
Go ahead and mind your business
Audrey, Becca, Liz
Whatever the heck your, name is
Why are you even participating in air travel
With your horde of bat shit crazy rascals
Shouldn't you be swerving across nine lanes of traffic
While live-streaming your morning routines and habits?
Shouldn't we be making van-life vlogs
Like the rest of your generational pedigree
So your kids can grow up
Needing Prozac and therapy?
If I need a plan to ditch this tin can
I can always stand, on this helicopter mom
And fly off like nothing's wrong
She's fueled by some different shit
And I bet I get, halfway to Boston
Before she has to stop and
Pretend to homeschool the kids
What do you mean you give them a Travelcation?
Enjoy the SAT kids
I'm sure you'll ace them
Then what's a vacation
Feels like it'd be anything I could do
To escape the situation
Drove everybody I know crazy
With the thoughts in my head
I hate driving
But I'd sooner drive right through the lobby
Of the police department
So the cops can stop me
Lock me
Behind reinforced steel and lead rebar
So before I ever get in the air
On a wing and a prayer
With nothing to eat but a Heath bar
I'd have to be certifiable
Before I'll ever
Sign up to be that high in the sky
I'll stick to driving instead
Next time I'm flying
I better be already dead
I like to swim out to sea, jump on the first sinking ship I see
It's probably why you might be thinking something's wrong with my psyche
I might just be bad at strategy, or maybe I just enjoy knowing
I can keep bailing the boat without rowing
But it still won't go down as bad as going up in a Boeing
I wouldn't be surprised if the flight didn't survive
The first track of tarmac
Check the farmer's almanac
Cause this season's supposed to see an increase
In planes raining down from on high
So sky moguls, hold on tight to your wallets, grab an alibi
Cause people might be starting to notice
Forget trying to fly
Just deploy your wing blowups and float us
Who's in charge of the fuselage
Cause it's rattling and I saw two screws unlodge
When you bozos flew through the ozone
And hit a whole flock of pterodactyls
During your terrible lack of tactical practice
Maniacal act of acrobatics that you called a takeoff
If you hit even one little seagull
This shitty hull's gonna give
Just let the birds live
You made it fully clear there's only one Sully
So why even wait
Your plan is plain to see
Like covert ops and cops in the 80s
Just release the Kraken on us crazies
Yes, a beverage Yoda wants
Now get my soda while I strip off my socks
And let out the gophers
Cause we're a go-for, taking off my loafers
Let me rest my seraph fonts on your headrests and paper coasters
How and why does it feel like I get closer to Hades
With every mile we climb up in this bottle full of rabid babies
And what am I even doing
Harpooning, over the Tigris Euphrates
In the Sky Tycoon's cash cow
Going over the moon, in an A320
Gunning through space in a cut and paste
Paper mache mess
With rubber bands holding the hatch in place
How it stays in space is anyone's guess
Since it's older than me
Cause it was born in the late 80s
But it's all in the interest of the bare budget shareholder
Rockefeller and Rockeladies
And here I am now
Saving them cash, by getting on a craft
That last passed an inspection
When Reagan was winning an election
I don't even care no more
I have no fear
Just get me off this damn scare bus
There's too many air holes
Letting in the atmosphere
Happy I can afford it?
I'd be happier in a broken down Ford
If it meant I wasn't gonna die in space
Trying to hear some hint of a bass
In these tiny ass earbuds
That play a range, of 400 hertz
Tuned with actual forks
That go out in spurts
And I'm annoyed cause they're corded
And we all look like dorks
America let me bend your ear for a second or a week
Looking at the going survival rate
Of a Boeing flight of late is bleak
I'd rather fly out on a Griffin's beak
And show up with bruises and fleas
Smelling like broiled chicken feet for weeks
Just my luck
I find I'm surrounded by rows of
Colonel Sanders
Ned Flanders corn shucks
Minus the poultry, revolting
Like the last season of
Duck Dynasty
Kinda seem
Like the problem causers
With the essence of a dark drama
Like the reboot of Fresh Prince
That nobody asked for, or even wanted
Some troglodyte mother
With her three identical offspring
Turns around and says pardon me
I tell the bitch to shut up
Princess Buttercup
I don't give a f*ck
Go ahead and mind your business
Audrey, Becca, Liz
Whatever the heck your, name is
Why are you even participating in air travel
With your horde of bat shit crazy rascals
Shouldn't you be swerving across nine lanes of traffic
While live-streaming your morning routines and habits?
Shouldn't we be making van-life vlogs
Like the rest of your generational pedigree
So your kids can grow up
Needing Prozac and therapy?
If I need a plan to ditch this tin can
I can always stand, on this helicopter mom
And fly off like nothing's wrong
She's fueled by some different shit
And I bet I get, halfway to Boston
Before she has to stop and
Pretend to homeschool the kids
What do you mean you give them a Travelcation?
Enjoy the SAT kids
I'm sure you'll ace them
Then what's a vacation
Feels like it'd be anything I could do
To escape the situation
Drove everybody I know crazy
With the thoughts in my head
I hate driving
But I'd sooner drive right through the lobby
Of the police department
So the cops can stop me
Lock me
Behind reinforced steel and lead rebar
So before I ever get in the air
On a wing and a prayer
With nothing to eat but a Heath bar
I'd have to be certifiable
Before I'll ever
Sign up to be that high in the sky
I'll stick to driving instead
Next time I'm flying
I better be already dead
Writer: Erin Wheeler
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid