Flying

The last night my brother slept at my house, I went riding Jenga told me "Homie need to get out the house, we been writing We should whip to Dulles with the pape in my mouth, she's arriving Dodgeball plane been stay'n' on route", we get rising I cannot forget how I'd been out, until five in The morning, snoring, ringing, bringing me right out, of my fineness "Matthew unresponsive on the side of the route," she's confiding He'd had an appointment, going to which I had opted out, my brain frying My uncle even went, it's me and her in the house, and I'm flying The red light runner, is it fun or can you feel yourself fighting?