Waka Flocka Flame - Hijackin Planes lyrics

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Waka Flocka Flame - Hijackin Planes lyrics

[Verse 1] Is it me or I'm trippin', them folks on my phone When I talk I hear echoes in the background holmes Looked out my window, seen a black Tahoe Dark tints, two guys, two black suits They say I'm wanted for third degree swag Drop twenty in Louie, another thirty in Gucci Saks fifth, shawty all I do is shop Rolly on my left wrist, make a n***a jaw drop BrickSquad Monopoly, this is it The way the girl lock-jaw dick she like a f**in' pit They say life's a b**h, so I'm finger-f**in' it Wit a finger condom on, cause I don't trust sh** [Hook] Put your lighters in the air Put your red cups up Blowin' back woods Back to back I'm f**ed up Hijackin' planes, three years in the game Got the money and the fame, but ain't nothin' really change b**hes on my dick, cell phone keep jumpin' Police out the window, man they think a n***a hustlin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' [Verse 2] You want me for a feature, that's one brick Shows goin' for two bricks, told her snort it off my dick All I know is grind, go get it wit' it You can tell we them bangers soon as I pulled down the brim Where I'm from n***as rob their kin You can't even trust a b**h or your best friend Riverdale n***a this like Compton Our pistols always barkin' My n***a we get it poppin' You can feel the tension soon as I walk in the buildin' 'Rari sit low to the Earth, call it caterpillin' I'mma keep it grindin' n***a don't stop In this industry, lames get all the credit [Hook] Put your lighters in the air Put your red cups up Blowin' back woods Back to back I'm f**ed up Hijackin' planes, three years in the game Got the money and the fame, but ain't nothin' really change b**hes on my dick, cell phone keep jumpin' Police out the window, man they think a n***a hustlin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' [Verse 3] I don't care 'bout no "he say" "she say" Chase this money, love dineros like my f**in' DJ Lap full of weed, ridin' on the freeway Y'all n***as industry, I do this sh** the G way I'm a boss, p**y n***a 'bout that gun play Self-made, triple B's n***a all day Can't do it with the Glock then get my brother K All white diamonds on my neck, call it Lisa Ray I'mma be okay, I don't need too much Just a red cup and one vanilla Dutch Put your lighters in the air if your f**ed up Flocka give three f**s, Remi Martin pour me up [Hook] Put your lighters in the air Put your red cups up Blowin' back woods Back to back I'm f**ed up Hijackin' planes, three years in the game Got the money and the fame, but ain't nothin' really change b**hes on my dick, cell phone keep jumpin' Police out the window, man they think a n***a hustlin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin' I'mma keep grindin'