Surface To Air

Ask yourself

How fly

The planes and the Taylor Gang

Haters stand clear of em

Y'all stand cheer for em

Shook away from lames and over came let's hear it for em

Zig zag smoke, magic lyrics appear to em

Outta nowhere air hare Jordans

Kicked up sitting behind a mahogany desk

Crumbling 'erb just as Big Boi and Andre would suggest

Flow sick need a check up

Flow sick that's how I got my checks up

Bad bitches gold digging lame niggas

Out a trip to foreign places or bracelet or necklace

Then slide through the set and

Auck the JETS cause she respect us

You think you got a winner but you don't I bet she let us

Pickles, tomatos, onions, mayo, mustard,

And ketchup, the works

Driving in a Aqufina truck to the club

Cause Wiz told me that these bitches was thirst

Crash test dummy honey

Need a helmet cause she jumping head first

It's amazing how I get so high and stay so down to Earth

Ain't nah niggas iller, explosive and fly, surface to air missile

Old sucka-ass nigga go somewhere and fuck yourself

Cause ain't nobody fucking with us

You didn't put a hundred on it then you can't hit it

Me and my nigga Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sitting

Yeah it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang

Lame niggas putting locks and chains on they bitches

Smoke filled rooms

Camera lens zooms from a mile away you can smell the fumes

College girls play me in their iPod or Zune

Even bitches with bad attitudes bumping to our tunes

They high maintenance

Give em wings let em fly places

Introduce you to high times, flavors, and sky scrapers

Rolling in lime papers and Randy's

Smoking out somewhere where the sand be

Plan B killing these kids

Not Michael Jackson

I ain't feeling these kids

And you hating such a shame that's where your energy is

I'm in a Gfizz flying

Leave your bitches with the planes now she sky diving

Hella vibing

And your hating adds just more steam

More chips now I'm living more Rothstein

So for every thing it's worth

I travel all four corners of the Earth putting in work

Ain't nah niggas iller, explosive and fly, surface to air missile

Old sucka-ass nigga go somewhere and fuck yourself

Cause ain't nobody fucking with us

You didn't put a hundred on it then you can't hit it

Me and my nigga Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sitting

Yeah it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang

Lame niggas putting locks and chains on they bitches