[Intro]
(Jets n***a now where haven't we)
(They look up to jets n***a now where haven't we)
(Fuck boys wondering if the bitch next)
Ask yourself
How fly
The Planes and the Taylor Gang

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Haters stand clear of em, y'all stand, cheer for 'em
Shook away from lames and ove came, let's hear it for em
Zig zag smoke, magic lyrics appear to 'em
Outta nowhere, Air-hare Jordans
Kicked up, sitting behind a mahogany desk
Crumblin 'erb, just as Big Boi and Andre would suggest
Flow sick, need a check up, flow sick, that's how I got my checks up
Bad bitches, gold digging lame n***as
Out a trip to foreign places or bracelet or necklace
Then slide through the set and fuck the Jets cause she respect us
You think you got a winner, but you don't I bet she let us
Pickles, tomatoes, onions, mayo, mustard, and ketchup, the works
Driving in a Aquifina truck to the club
Cause Wiz told me that these bitches was thirst
Crash test dummy honey need a helmet, cause she jumping head first
It's amazing how I get so high, and stay so down to Earth
[Chorus: Curren$y]
Ain't naan n***as iller
Explosive and fly, surface to air missile
Old sucka-ass n***a 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 n***a Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sitting
Yea, it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang
Lame n***as putting locks and chains on they bitches

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
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 skyscrapers, 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
[Chorus: Curren$y]
Ain't naan n***as iller
Explosive and fly, surface to air missile
Old sucka-ass n***a 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 n***a Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sitting
Yea, it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang
Lame n***as putting locks and chains on they bitches