Flying Spirit Lyrics – The Alchemist


[Verse 1: Danny Brown]
They say “Danny, how you get it?”
Told ’em “If you gotta ask me, motherfucker, you ain’t with it”
Lil’ nigga, better give it, with no aura ‘bout you
Give a fuck you on the corner, sellin’ water bottles
This that rusty .38 at Grandma’s place
This Bolognese and cheese on New Years Eve
Appetite for destruction, my sight see blood
Just ’cause I call you cuz’ don’t mean we blood
It’s that Bruiser Brigade, and it’s fades on deck
Give a fuck what you playin’, I’ma rep my set
Yacht-Master Rolex, but I ain’t got no boat
Know that bitch ain’t my ho, but I got that throat
Got a target on my back, yeah my life in the scope
‘Cause my name ring bells everywhere I go
Bitch, we the new mob, so slob on the knob
Only read rob reports in the back of the Saab

[Verse 2: J.U.S]
I kill shit in the booth whenever the mic’s on
You know my number, it stay the same like Mike Jones
Then I wasn’t hot, but now the hoes all on me
Not big as ever, and them niggas still on me
Used to be friendly, now I DoorDash Coney
Watchin’ Curse of Oak Island, hopin’ that they found treasure
I found peace and fucks with myself beyond measure
You flyin’ Spirit
It only take a knife to turn you to a flyin’ spirit
Like Casper the Ghost
Me and Brown on Collards dumpin’ blunts in the Ghost
I got the Tommy, he’ll turn you right into ghost
So who got the power?
And I’m patient
Unlike party girls waitin’ for powder
A nigga like me’ll have you waitin’ for hours
‘Cause it’s the whitest snow
My VVS’ get a whitest glow
Sunday service, the same place the whiners go

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[Verse 3: Fat Ray]
Slick nigga, used to dine and go
Momma in my ear with that Q-Tip, now I got rhymes to go
Shit bumpin’ like a line of blow
Tryna grow the lemon cherry, I’m married to this designer smoke
This shit deep as a vagina go
Deeper than the mines in Minoto
Deeper than the audience on Oprah
Deeper than the bars I wrote to MF DOOM, Accordion when I was on the sofa
So if you see a bitch with me, she a dime one
Niggas said they be in their bag, but it’s a broad one
Niggas love to sit on their ass when they around one
Everybody lookin’ for cash, who finna find some?
I’ma Jason come out his mask if I was down some
Knock his ass out, six seconds into the round one
Call of Duty, stockpile weapons until the war come
Whole world pushin’ my niggas into the forefront

[Verse 4: Bruiser Wolf]
Sometimes screenshots hurt, worse than the real ones (The real ones)
Move determined, Ruger German, my shooter purgin’
My circle tight, like a virgin (Like a virgin)
But listen, I feel blessed, no regrets
I swear to God, it’s hard to take pics, when you pose a threat (When you pose a threat)
Money, power, and respect
I wanna play for the Jets or the Mets
Instead, I had to invest in pills, coke and crystal meth (Let me holla at you baby)
When I was twelve, we held L’s (We held L’s)
Talked about what we did for a livin’
It turns out, we both do cells (We both do cells)
She realized I’m funny, kept laughin’ and sayin’ stop
Well baby what do you call a ‘ghini with the top off, that’s a lamb chop (That’s a lamb chop)
Told her about my guys from the Sandlot
Think we trained for cross country, the way we land blocks
Honey, run blocks, sirens and gun shots
You only get one shot, to make this cream like sun block
Baby your voice, is music to my ears, that’s my jam
It’s a lot of things I ought to buy you, you know Bam
Still keep money in a rubber band
This crossfire like my jeweler, a member of the Klan
I’m single, but I’m a wanted man, so tell your friend, scram, you got other plans (Other plans)
Your ass put P in period, I’m tryna sample your soul
I’m just waitin’ on the clearance
Got dough like a entrance
In for meals like an infant
‘Til the judge read my sentence
Read my sentence

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Featuring – Bruiser Brigade
Album – This Thing of Ours 2 (October 2021)
Produced by The Alchemist
Written by J.U.S (Detroit), Fat Ray, Bruiser Wolf & Danny Brown