In The Middle

It's the Planes and the Taylor Gang And I'm Fucking with the chronic cause the chronic give me dopeness Center of the camera focus Once the car service doors open I'm with a chick you only seen on magazine covers posing I really know this bitch I won't tell you I got it until I could show you it I'm not gon' tell you about it until I go through it Formula One car, code word for solo whip Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you I'm cool Weed lit Lights flipped up on the Porsche The same model Tony escaped from the club with When them haters tried to knock him off That's cold Destroyer of the track I am Spitta Destro You in the club line obeying the dress code I drive by Bitches making googley eyes Google me Ma I do that music so beautifully, huh Believe that Jets nigga retweet that Refrain: Curren$y And In the Middle we stay calm we just drop bombs In the Middle we stay calm we just drop we just drop In the Middle we stay calm we just drop bombs In the Middle we stay calm we just drop we just drop Verse 2 - Wiz Jets, Taylor Gang You know the slang Bad bitches feeding me champagne Show up smelling like weed on the plane People cut they eyes but they don't say shit Rep Taylor Gang plus the Planes bitch Polo Socks Bad Bitches dig em cause they know the flow so hot They be at my shows hoping one day they can meet us And maybe we'll smoke I ain't on no Hollywood shit You sexy and know how to handle your weed You probably cook bitch Bong rips send us to Hong Kong trips My life is a movie stick to the script Can tell that it's quality before its lit He is I and I am him Some bitches a lot of weed and gin Tattoos cover half my skin Hoes scream Taylor Gang out they roof Plus they love the Jets music Lemme hear it