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Wiz Khalifa – Surface To Air ft Curren$y

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Wiz Khalifa shows he’s still got the flow

Wiz Khaflia and Curren$y’s joint tape, How Fly, has hit all streaming services.

Not only is the shift convenient in today’s age of instant accessibility, but it also signals a sign of change to come; before long, perhaps your favorite tape will surface on your platform of choice.

We love  how  Wiz and Curren$y  bonded, Step-Brothers-esque, over a shared admiration for the greenleaf – yea it’s a smoke session.

Selecting a song to highlight proved difficult, as the tape has  a variety of fan favorites tracks, but for us at FAMzic, we just love “Surface To Air”  you gonna love it too.


You can download Wiz Khalifa – Surface To Air ft Curren$y and get the Lyrics below.

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    Surface To Air Wiz Khalifa ft Curren$y

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    Surface To Air –Wiz Khalifa ft Curren$y

    [Jets nigga now where haven't we
    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

    [Verse 1: Curren$y]
    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 fuck 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 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
    Yea it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang
    Lame niggas 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 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


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