| I’m in the air all I want is the money and I see it so clear,
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| Weed in my grinder, mine on a million
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| Taylor gang on the planes, you know we over the building,
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| If they ask me how fly, I’m a tell ya
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| If you reconize game, I should be looking familiar,
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| If they ask me how fly, I’m a tell ya
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| If you reconize a G, I should be lookin familiar,
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| Party and chillin and fast livin how I’m suppose too,
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| Not the choices given, I chose too,
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| Leave the club with a couple of hoes who,
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| Love to smoke trees, rolling it e-z widers,
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| Paper maintain a low speed, now should I proceed,
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| Come from a city where niggas ain’t got a lot,
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| But got it locked, so I be low key,
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| Money, hoes, clothes is all a nigga knows,
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| Don’t bring enough I blow it by the O,
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| I hit the road, cause shit is exactly how it seems,
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| Why cat’s been sleeping on me I been livin out my dream,
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| The marijuana is loud but my sorroundings are soreem,
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| I’m laughin and smoking hoping my camera catch the scene,
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| Fresh up out the plane, flick another paper,
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| Shorty wanna ride with me as bad as I wanna taker her,
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| Put you in demand bitches taking flicks with the planes,
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| And send them to their friends,
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| Weed the grind mine on a million, and we over the building
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| I’m in the air all I want is the money and I see it so clear,
|
| Weed in my grinder, mine on a million
|
| Taylor gang on the planes, you know we over the building,
|
| If they ask me how fly, I’m a tell ya
|
| If you reconize game, I should be looking familiar,
|
| If they ask me how fly, I’m a tell ya
|
| If you reconize a G, I should be lookin familiar,
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| And I’m livin like a balla Loc,
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| I’m having money and blowing hella chronic smoke,
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| Did we just become best friends with these hoes,
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| On a boat well, probably so but we don’t love them no,
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| Only can cake causes my heart to palpitate darling,
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| Clean that money keep this dirty ball revolving,
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| No pausing, I get too high to have downtime,
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| No matter what your watch say nigga it’s my time,
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| I hear them critics right now «all them fools make is weed songs"blah blah blah,
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| You sound like a sucka, tune ya out,
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| As I’m tuning up my Chevelle, this weekend I’m a pull it out,
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| Lay some rubber down, slanging rocks everywhere, people mad as a mothafucka,
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| But he jet connected, so they know they can’t touch em,
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| Airborn from here on, been sworn in,
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| Fat pockets, cause I took chance even when they were slim
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| I’m in the air all I want is the money and I see it so clear,
|
| Weed in my grinder, mine on a million
|
| Taylor gang on the planes, you know we over the building,
|
| If they ask me how fly, I’m a tell ya
|
| If you reconize game, I should be looking familiar,
|
| If they ask me how fly, I’m a tell ya
|
| If you reconize a G, I should be lookin familiar |