This is a song about "Twenty one pilots"

I'm back to life flying high as pilots on airliners designed for the top

Hahaha, yothese felonies be like prophecies beggin me to stop

And i got a little big, keep it low key

How is this the twenty first century

And i feared that my fans say i failed

At twenty eight i'll have plenty of taste

With just twenty five bucks in his wallet

Shoot till there ain't shit left in the clip

It ain't nothing to me, i’m who they coming to see

Fuck them college girls the pussy best when twenty

Stealing a clip for anyone squealing they lips

Microphone is a plane,mcs are pilots

Twenty years was enough to see

A-town, nigga, yeah it's trap city