lirik lagu flying dutchman – yung ulcer
[intro]
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
flying dutchman, you can never touch, so don’t count your luck
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
[verse 1]
fighting with the kind of demons you can’t see
and fighting with this b*tch just to get custody
’cause mini me can’t be a slum on the streets
he’s gotta be like me; sh*tting on beats
i got that one paul mccartney song on repeat
reclining in the car seat, thinking ’bout rawmeat
i’m thinking ’bout how i called that one b*tch mommy
and the 30 year sentence if they find these guns on me
i remember turning 17 and thinking that i only had another year to jerk off to loli
case was hot like a tamale, now i just jerk off to molly moonn
got my d*ck cumming soon
this the sh*t i go through, and it’s true
[chorus]
i’m at the bus stop toked up
bumping 60’s pop like lonely hearts club band and such
i’m the flying dutchman, you can never touch
so don’t count your luck
i’m at the bus stop toked up
bumping 60’s pop like lonely hearts club band and such
i’m the flying dutchman, you can never touch
so don’t count your luck
[verse 2]
i was not a good sport when i wasn’t picked for dodgeball
the lord in my phone, and i picked up when god called me
out of ordinary, somewhat of an oddball
acquired taste, some folks like me, but not all
a hard motherf*cker eating breakfast by himself
your grandma gave you money, now you’re flexing your wealth
i set a new record, took a trophy off your shelf
and i did it on my own, and never asked for help
i remember when we used to hit carts filled with canola oil
and rap battle b*tches i beefed with, i always got the spoils
and when my sh*t was empty, i was hitting straight coils
cause them thc withdrawals would make my f*cking blood boil
and i don’t wanna hear none of that, “can i get a hit, man?”
i’m putting years on my life by quitting that sh*t, man
little did you know, that plug is a f*cking hitman
’cause in the end he gets bands, and you need a catscan
the diagnosis is something that doesn’t have a name yet
you would’ve been better off having s*x with the same s*x
in a year where treatment for aids wasn’t invented yet
these dumb motherf*ckers rolling the dice, i took a better bet
[chorus]
at the bus stop toked up
bumping 60’s pop like lonely hearts club band and such
i’m the flying dutchman, you can never touch
so don’t count your luck
i’m at the bus stop toked up
bumping 60’s pop like lonely hearts club band and such
i’m the flying dutchman, you can never touch
so don’t count your luck
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
(flying dutchman, it’s the)
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