Dusty (feat. C Money Burns)

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Lt Headtrip

Lt Headtrip (pronounced /lo͞oˈtenənt hedtrip/) is an American rapper and producer. He is the founder of the record label 'we are the karma kids' (WATKK) and has spent the last decade curating projects and events in the local music scene in Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens. He is also a seasoned touring musician and studio engineer. more »

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Dusty had a big heart. Dusty had to go
Dusty had to work five doubles in a row
Dusty had a big sis. Used to bring him blow
He had a lot of fun, and he didn’t like it slow
He was runnin on a full ‘script, never skipped a dose
Would travel to America when he was getting low
And I trusted he was fine but I couldn’t really know
See, Dusty had a history of losing all control
Dusty had a lock box stuffed full o cash that he
Made on his feet when he busted his ass
Loved what he did, he made his customers laugh
But he couldn’t ever satiate the monkey on his back
He didn’t really smoke much. Only when he drank
He never got stoned drunk, only most days
He usually woke up to some whip its and some yay
Then would make a few mistakes after workin’ all day
Dusty had a sense of loyalty that I admired
He hooked up his friend with a boy who he desired
Because they made a good fit and he thought they deserved it
Or maybe Dusty never really felt like he was worth it
See he made a lot of dollars but he couldn’t find his path
The water locked wanderer kinda felt trapped
In bed with his shoes on, laid out on his back like
Quiet! Shh. I need to take a nap
It goes, wake up, dose. Clock in, hustle
Money ain’t a thang if you gettin' it in bundles
Cake up, close. Clock out, rage
Spendin' what he made like, Money ain’t a thang
It goes, wake up, dose. Clock in, hustle
More money, more drugs, more trouble
Cake up, close. Clock out, crash
Quiet! Shh. I need to take a nap
Okay Dusty was a bit much. He skipped lunch for the tips
Yup, hustle and still crush the dinner rush
Flipped the six top quick.
Pickin’ shifts up when anybody wanted to get lit
And he worked like a dog. Worked like a mule
He lived for his job. His body was a tool
He felt like cog but he liked getting used
So long as he could keep buying fuel. It’s cool
Then one night he knocked out, work clothes on
Nothin’ new. Dead phone with his pulse goin’ strong
See that big old heart of his didn’t wanna quit
It felt trapped, a bit like Dusty did
So it snapped some ribs back and ripped through the flesh
Dropped a fat sack of yip in his chest
Stitched him up, threw the kicks on fresh
And headed into town so it could paint the city red
The pub was poppin’. The club was louder
Forgot his wallet so he snuck by the bouncer
The subs were knockin’. The floor was crowded
Nothin’ in his pockets ‘cept Dusty’s powder
A generous organ, he made friends quick with
Stupendous portions and relatable wit
He pumped his aortas while they pumped their fists
And he dumped his blood on the floor. Don’t slip
Shit, it isn’t often that a heart gets a chance to
Have a night on the town and show off some of his rad moves
Gettin’ a little sloppy. Soggy little dance shoes
Nothin’ he won’t try. Nothin’ he can’t do
Dancin’ awkward, Laughin’ hearty
Last call now. Where the after party
Yup. Still gotta unclog some of these arteries
Then get back to Dusty ‘fore his double tomorrow
So he accepts an invite to a boat in the harbor
Where they rage into the night and the bros act harder than they really are
Can’t turn down a card game and
F*ck it, bets the rest of his powder to get started
Three rounds in and he’s bankin’, rakin’ in the cash
Chips stacked. Royal straight in his hands
Captain thinks his tell is a palpitation
So he fakes it, nails it, but Cap gets mad
He says, Who the hell let this ringer of a bloke into my poker room
Let alone my boat. Throw him overboard
He grabs his earning and escapes unharmed
A little hemoglobin in the Great Salt Pond
Luckily he floats and his back stroke's strong
Makes it back home. Your man’s still zonked
Pulls the little baggy out the cavity, yawns
And hops back in Dusty's chest with his dance shoes on
It goes, wake up, dose. Clock in, hustle
Money ain’t a thang if you gettin' it in bundles
Cake up, close. Clock out, rage
Spendin' what he made like, Money ain’t a thang
It goes, wake up, dose. Clock in, hustle
More money, more drugs, more trouble
Cake up, close. Clock out, crash
It goes, wake up, dose. Clock in, hustle
Money ain’t a thang if you gettin' it in bundles
Cake up, close. Clock out, rage
Spendin' what he made like, Money ain’t a thang
It goes, wake up, dose. Clock in, hustle
More money, more drugs, more trouble
Cake up, close. Clock out, crash
Quiet! Shh. I need to take a nap

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