Stuck in the never-ending-yet-tons-o-fun-vortex of Texas. Dug, Fishh, and bird venture into the Sonic ridden railyard suburbs of Pilot Point where they happily huck beer bottles at ghost trains fireside, singing resin-scraped kitchen anthems and ignoring all the rules of American grammar. In Amarillo Dug explains how the girth of his weanus is far from impressive in the shadow of the ol’ 72er and no free meatsteak was had. The conclusion was that while the bathrooms were fun and the location made for great pics, the place stunk like poop.

One thought on “FREEEBIRD#59-Still in Fucking Texas!%@#”

  1. hey it’s great to see a new rapper on the east coast.
    I’ll look out for your album at Virgin Records man.

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