Testi:
Air Ghost Song

(Instrumental)

nigga hot (nah fuck that!) Some say that kid ain't nice, cause that song to hot No that kid didn't write, like I don't ghost write Like I don't flow tight

(Buddy Kaye/Jeffrey Tweel) A ghost is there I can see the outline of her shadow traced in the air. Sometimes I see her bended over your shoulder I think

So, now you're not there But your ghost still burns in the air Finally above us the waves have come To take you away And with this song, I'll say goodbye

the fuck do it take for a gangsta to win? No mics, no +Unsigned Hype+, nigga *FUCK* The Source Plus them awards I don't need And them niggaz breathin the same air

kill your captian That's word to my bitch that's laid off That ? in the pussyword I ate it all T moved with hands in the air like Adolf Hand me a big

you know you telling me 'bout making a song come in the studio, and tell me that I'm making it wrong pissed off 'cause reality is making us strong like the ghost

fists bled I choke on lead, until my spit's red When I step outside to get a quick breath Of fresh death, now there's no air left And fifty percent of

put their hands in the air with my radio on Singing a country song soft and low Oh when I've got a worried mind I know I hear the ghost of Patsy Cline