Nine oh four she's on the floor
Keeps sayin' it won't happen anymore
Don't drink the foam just take me home
Help me find my way to the door
I'd rather be dead than ignorant
I rhyme shit with shit it's not looking good from here
Cause I just spilled beer on my pants and
Wiped it up with hundred dollar bills
Pass me some huneds goin' to Beijing
Plane leaves in the morning gotta do my thing
But I can't do it without someone on my wing
She's a whoa-man and she likes to swing
Now we're on log number who-knows-what
She's too drunk to recite it now you're cut
Now everyone's a wingman gotta
Find somebody else to fly the plane
If I have one more drink I'll be dead
I still gotta think about what I said
You shouldn't be wearing shoes on the bed
You taste like the smell of cigarettes
Twelve oh four still on the floor
And still hasn't found her way out of the door
It's been fun being part of Air Force One but
Now I think I just want to go home
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