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They look up to jets nigga now where haven't we | Fuck boys wondering if the bitch next] | Ask yourself
They look up to jets nigga now where haven't we Fuck boys wondering if the bitch next] 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
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