forkspoon's Journal: The Brothers Delta

y'all be goin' on vacation? see, the thing is, if you 'bout to be up out this biatch, check it. beep delta. we be flyin' all over this bitch. let me astk you somethin'. you fend to raise up 'n get your travel on? from the interior to da exterior, you've got to get your posterior in one of deese big ass planes. shit dog! you laying the cut straight sittin' on yo ass, and gettin' your drink on and your snack on, while we floss and fly this mo' fo all over this bitch. east coast. west coast. it don't matter. ni'a, we'll get you to yo ho 'n back, lickitty splits, no shit. then you be back at yo crib, chillin' with a flat splif, thinkin' we were some crazy ass angel. hell. these fat, round, thick ass vessels run up in the sky so deep, it be cryin'. yeah. you thought it was rain. so bring a towel, cuz at delta, it's laid out like that. call one of deese fly ass delta coochies, and make all dem punk-ass coworkers o' yours catch the vapors as you be off and up out. you going? we fly you there. you been? we done already flew up in there. we got you covered like a jimmy hat. at delta, we loves us some flyin', and it be showin' like a muthafucka.