Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Flying down 20
Funkytown in my rearview
Fort Worth mud on my Forces
phone chirp, that’s the clear view
Vac bag humming in the trunk
rubber bands on my reflection
Used to flip green and the flake
now I’m swimming in injections
TX plate dirt on the frame
GPS pinned Bentonville
Every mile feel like a case
every light feel like a drill
Hand on the wheel, hand on the steel
heart on a federal list
Whole crew chasing that rush
till we run straight into a fist
[Chorus]
Ghosted on 20, dark road, no name (no name)
Going state to state for a habit, not fame (not fame)
From weed to the tabs, to the snow, to the flame
Now everybody in the clique got a number and a chain
Ghosted on 20, can’t see who I am
Vac seal dreams, cold cash in the van
Thought we ran the work, but the work ran us
Now it’s “all rise” when they say our name to the judge
[Verse 2]
DEA boots in the hallway
neighbors peeking through the blinds
Group chat quiet by the morning
blue dots turning to time
One went fed on a traffic stop
another on a phone they tapped
We was laughing at conspiracy
they was writing out the map
Mama say “son, you look tired”
I just stare at the kitchen floor
thinking ‘bout a Fort Worth night
they’d been parked outside the store
Every brick, every gram, every lie
all of that weighed in the end
Paper trail long as that highway
from my city to my friends
[Chorus]
Ghosted on 20, dark road, no name (dark road)
Going state to state for a habit, not fame
From weed to the tabs, to the snow, to the flame
Now everybody in the clique got a number and a chain
Ghosted on 20, can’t see who I am
Vac seal dreams, cold cash in the van
Thought we ran the work, but the work ran us
Now it’s “all rise” when they say our name to the judge
[Bridge]
Flying down 20, but the past don’t fade (don’t fade)
Fort Worth scars in the Bentonville shade
Every route marked in invisible ink
Till the ink turn cuffs and they ask what you think
[Chorus]
Ghosted on 20, dark road, no name
Going state to state for a habit, not fame
From weed to the tabs, to the snow, to the flame
Now everybody in the clique got a number and a chain
Ghosted on 20, can’t see who I am (who I am)
Vac seal dreams, cold cash in the van
Thought we ran the work, but the work ran us
Now it’s “all rise” when they say our name to the judge
Style
rapdark southern trap rap70–74 bpmswung hi-hats and cavernous 808s under eerie bell loop. verses stay low and menacing with close-mic male vocalsad-libs tucked in the sides; hook explodes with layered doubles and grimy sub-bass swells. sparse piano stabs in the bridgethen everything drops out for the last hookvocal almost a whisper over distant siren fx.
Prompt
rap, Flying down 20, from Fort Worth Tx to BENTONVILLE AR. Selling H, vacuum sealing, ghosting, DEA kicking doors in, from selling Weed, Coke, ecstasy to slinging H now everyone federally indictment
Credits
Prompt byexpensivediet
GeneratedMar 14, 2026
ModelAria v5
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