Sy Ari da Kid
I’m Flyin’
[Intro: Sy Ari Da Kid (Dae Dae Dunkin)]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm flying
(I'm sitting on Mars with the stars n***a) (Flying high)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Squad, Squad)

[Hook: Sy Ari Da Kid]
Fucking with a real n***a, my face card
So A.1, don’t try ‘em
Sitting on cloud nine, I’m so high
No lie, I’m flyin'
They know we them real n***as
My face card
So A.1, don’t try ‘em
Sitting on cloud nine, I’m so high
Take off, I’m flyin'

[Verse 1: Dae Dae Dunkin]
(Squad, Squad)
I’m on my fly shit
Counting tons of cash (Too much)
Swear to god man I’m running out of duffle bags (I need some more)
I fuck with arrogant twin towers still standing
Throwing stacks of my money keep these hoes doing the rain dance
And Dae Dae still the fucking man
Fuck you saying?
N***as in the little league still pitching under hand
Guess I’m swagged up, and my block on
Gucci belt diamonds same color popcorn
[Verse 2: Wooh Da Kid]
Wooh Da Kid
Be fucking off my face card
They like you can fuck my girl like I’m BasedGod
Sitting on cloud nine turned up
100 blunts back to back got me burnt up
Flying past them haters in my two seater
Black n***a, black chain, black wife beater
Kid got a n***a right, me and Dae Dae
Ain’t shit free, on DG pay me

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Sy Ari Da Kid]
Bitch I’m flying high as fuck, I don’t even smoke
Catching big fish, I might need a boat
In my driveway is where your girl car be
Cut the cameras you ain’t finna World Star me
I’m a true dude
I make the crew move
Why your YouTube only got 2 views?
We ain't dropping bitches off tell her call a cab
Last n***a ran up on me, wanted an autograph

[Verse 4: RiFF RAFF]
Rap game Peyton Manning Indianapolis Colts
Running keys through Jamaica, Usain Bolt
I can sip syrup in the underworld
I can pour a deuce in a Thunderbird
Seats crocodile with the cheetah pattern
Watching Family Matters eating shrimp fajita platters
Johnny hates jazz, shattered dreams
Might touchdown in your city like a football team
[Hook]

[Verse 5: Sean Teezy]
What’s real? I’ma tell you real
I do me fuck how you feel
Getting high shit, I might as well
N***a lie to yourself only time will tell
Don’t see me n***a learn Braille
The Loudest n***as turn frail
Young n***as that’ll burn shells turn a fat kid into slim Kel
I am legend
Headache with no Excedrin
Leaving the club at five got to be up by seven
I’m praying to heaven we don’t end up like 9/11
I’m teching tagging these bitches
Pass one straight to my brethren

[Verse 6: Bambino Gold]
Bambino I’m a real king
I’ve got new weave
Robin blue jeans I’m with the money team
Late at night I see dead people
I'm like a money zombie rubber band hundreds
Comma, comma, comma
Bankrolls after bankrolls
I keep running through rubber bands I need more
Just ran through 100 P’s n***a ain’t nothing slow (100 Pounds)
I’m on a low money high n***a I’m never sober
[Hook]