[Verse 1] Carry-on dreams in the overhead Tags on the suitcase, red-eye regret Motel soap, same smell, different stress Staring at the ceiling like a failed test Per diem low, pride stay high Ramen on the desk next to last July I cashed in comfort for a couple more tries Turned my turbulence into punchline replies (yeah) [Chorus] Got my layover faith and my takeoff flaws Jet-lag heart but I still want more Road-worn soul, put it all on tour I confess to these walls like they keep score Half-sung hope in a half-lit room Mint on the pillow, scent of cheap perfume I’m tired, I’m wired, I’m still that sure Layover mixtape, I’m the gate, not the door (hey) [Verse 2] Manager texts, “you should sleep some” But the bars hit stronger than the reruns I turn my L’s into lead for the air guns Shoot my shot from the stairs at the airbnb front I got drive like I can’t afford brakes You got drive like a student on a road test We ain’t the same, I grind through the snow days You call in sick when the group chat says Mirror on the dresser like a cross-exam “Why you still chasing?” cause I still can I’m my own plug, my own biggest fan Therapy in verses, I just vent and stand [Chorus] Got my layover faith and my takeoff flaws Jet-lag heart but I still want more Road-worn soul, put it all on tour I confess to these walls like they keep score Half-sung hope in a half-lit room Mint on the pillow, scent of cheap perfume I’m tired, I’m wired, I’m still that sure Layover mixtape, I’m the gate, not the door (yeah) [Bridge] Room key by the Bible on the nightstand Praying over plans I don’t quite understand If the plane go down, check the notepad Every line a lifeboat, every joke a slow brag (woah) [Chorus] Got my layover faith and my takeoff flaws Jet-lag heart but I still want more Road-worn soul, put it all on tour I confess to these walls like they keep score Half-sung hope in a half-lit room Mint on the pillow, scent of cheap perfume I’m tired, I’m wired, I’m still that sure Layover mixtape, I’m the gate, not the door

rap, Dusty minor-key loop over sparse trap drums, distant vinyl hiss. Male vocals half-rapped, half-sung; verses sit dry and close, ad-libs tucked behind the lead. Hook opens with airy harmony stacks and a heavier 808, then drops back to a lean, late-night pocket. Simple ear-candy delays on the last word of key lines, slight tape warp on the outro., beats, minimal

Motel Mint on the Pillow