Paroles Surface to Air

Le - Par .

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 heir 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 fuck the JETS 'cause she respect us
You think you got a winner but you don't I bet she let us
Pickles, tomato, onions, mayo, mustard, and ketchup, the works
Driving in a Aquifina 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 that's 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

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Cameron Thomaz