Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Plane Gang , by - Akrobatik. Song from the album The Greatest X, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 08.09.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Brick
Song language: English
Plane Gang |
| I been on my raw shit, my oh shit, my killer tall shit |
| With the Plane Gang, boomerang tosses |
| Fantastic four-ces flowing like faucets |
| A bunch of F you’s abusing artists |
| All this is is optimist forming |
| Competition is boring, yawning |
| Y’all in no position to forget your mittens |
| When the fingers in the oven, Dan Gloving |
| Racist with the standard headhunting |
| Dammit I be bugging, pandemonium loving |
| Plan to blow a bug then reduce us to |
| Imposters, posse of the four-headed monsters |
| Yeah Plane Gang the team who you respect |
| We stay above the clouds like Preme, Guru and Deck |
| I brutalize you little guys that’s new to the set |
| Unless you true to the vets, this is how crucial it gets |
| We giving hip-hop protection like the feudalist set |
| And in return all we ask is come through and respect |
| The message that the song is meant to give |
| I’m with my city’s strongest representatives |
| Infinity bars how long we’re meant to live |
| Immortal techniques, we’re born to let our raps speak |
| You know how the story go, the ageless primordial |
| Champs you can’t handle here |
| Dropping jewels on you like a chandelier |
| The quiet killer like a panda bear |
| Plane Gang maintain the bang |
| Gold chain gang, spit slang to spit game |
| Is whip flames with fangs, vampire shit here |
| Scary story campfire shit |
| You turnt up, I don’t get that high |
| No style, SkyMiles, you don’t get that fly |
| You a wildcard, you don’t get that buy |
| I’m a stand up dude, you a sit down guy |
| Edo’s the nigga for it, ill 16s with ill chorus |
| Giving rappers all rigarmortis |
| The hare against the tortoise, we restore this |
| Carry torches building a fortress |
| Passport, Plane Gang T |
| First things first, free Wais the P-I-M-P |
| Thank God for my necklace |
| And thank God for giving me the heart to protect it, I’m reckless |
| Big tit grabber, big tip leaver |
| Bedroom bully, hotel trasher |
| Fuck 'em 'til they gasping like I ain’t got asthma |
| Asperine gon' be needed after this trashing |
| Me, I’m on my second passport, the first one’s a wrap |
| More stamps than the post office, stop it |
| Rolled up so high to the TSA |
| They said, «Where you flying, son?» |
| I said, «up, up and away» |
| Representing for the East Coast |
| Reks, Akrobatik, Edo G, Termanology |
| The grind don’t stop, aim for the sky |
| The grind don’t stop, aim for the sky |
| Yeah, Eastern Standard Time got the people all standing in line |
| Just to see skills, I’m brandishing mine |
| All the knockoffs’ll vanish in time |
| Over the banister, they fall short like Tyrian Lanister |
| Game of Thrones chance with the asswhooping for amateurs |
| In a foreign land with the band of lyrical bandits |
| A view that’s a panoramic nobody can handle us |
| We animals, the Eastern standard slang as the beat bang |
| Edo, Termanology, my momma proud of me |
| Reks, Ak, them my dudes solemnly |
| Now follow me, my balls hang, no skinnys |
| Y’all stepping over dollars to make pennies |
| I hit the stage with the greatest performers you ever seen |
| Army fatigues but you can never call me fatigued |
| You know the breath control is so cold |
| Follow the flow, that’s why we the greatest that’s unknown |
| Representing for the East Coast |
| Reks, Akrobatik, Edo G, Termanology |
| The grind don’t stop, aim for the sky |
| The grind don’t stop, aim for the sky |
| Representing for the East Coast |
| Reks, Akrobatik, Edo G, Termanology |
| The grind don’t stop, aim for the sky |
| The grind don’t stop, aim for the sky |