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Lyrics
[Intro]
Airplane mode on my halo
Carry-on full of karma
Same sky, two coasts
Same prayer, new armor (yeah)
[Verse 1]
Cali sun on the dashboard
Chicago wind in the rearview
Every mile is a metaphor
Every line is a clear view
Duffle bag look like a question
How much weight make a man bend?
How much gain make a soul thin?
Is that profit or coffin, my friend?
Vacuum-sealed like my secrets
Brown box like a small coffin
Label readin' like a sermon
Drop it off, then we keep talkin'
Feds lurk like hungry shadows
Flashing lights in my blind spot
Freedom hangin' by a barcode
Every scan feel like time stopped
[Chorus]
Back and forth, I turn to smoke
Interstate alchemy, vanish in the road (yeah)
Duffle full of doubt, calling it loot
Prayin' this compass point past the loot
UPS saints bring sins to the door
Trackin' number look like fate keepin' score
If the law on my tail, tell me this truth:
Do I own this money, or it owns me too?
[Verse 2]
She text, "You safe?" from the South Side
Mom call, "You eat?" from the West
Two voices like shoulder angels
Arguin' over every breath
Map app draw crooked halos
Blue line over gray sin
Every reroute feel like mercy
Every toll like payin' in
Highway signs talk in riddles
"Exit now," but for what life?
One lane lead to more trouble
One lane lead to same strife
Feds follow like old habits
Rearview full of what I was
If they cuff me in this moment
Do they lock me, or my past up?
[Chorus]
Back and forth, I turn to smoke
Interstate alchemy, vanish in the road (yeah, yeah)
Duffle full of doubt, calling it loot
Prayin' this compass point past the loot
UPS saints bring sins to the door
Trackin' number look like fate keepin' score
If the law on my tail, tell me this truth:
Do I own this money, or it owns me too?
[Bridge]
Every zip code feel like karma code (karma code)
Every box dropped off feel like votin' on my soul (on my soul)
Is this route a ladder or a leash?
Am I chasin' freedom or a leash made of gold? (huh)
[Chorus]
Back and forth, I turn to smoke
Interstate alchemy, vanish in the road
Duffle full of doubt, calling it loot
Prayin' this compass point past the loot
UPS saints bring sins to the door
Trackin' number look like fate keepin' score
If the feds on my trail, final truth:
On the scale of my life, what outweighs who?
Details
GeneratedJan 18, 2026
Duration2:39
LanguageEnglish
Style
rap, Smoky left-field trap with eerie bell plucks, pitched-male vocals, and sub-heavy 808s. Verses tight and conversational over sparse drums; chorus widens with layered chant hooks and filtered ad-libs. Occasional half-time drops, reverse FX, and tape-stop swells to emphasize paranoia and philosophy on the road., hip hop, beats
Credits
Prompt by
BiScotti
BiScottiModelAria v5
Prompt
inspired with unique metaphors and philosophical lyrics. back and forth from Cali to Chicago with duffle bags of loot. Vacuum sealed packs from UPS. Feds on the trail, rap, hip hop, trap, beats, male
