and the fare Now I wonder if she's there 'Cause she took every cent of mine Paid it all to the Pan Am line Though she's gone, I hope she's fine Fly love
star I make a big rock and roll hits I'd like to love you but my heart is a sore I am, I am, I am so yours I am a big car and I'm a strip bar You call
stand up in it you never had a real dealman up in it 2 minutes he finish 20 minutes I'm winnin cleanin ya kicthen up and lickin cause you pan was stickin
and red top Radio edits reverse my curse like the Red Sox International, pass porter's {?} gear And my song's here longer than dog years Fly, coast to
funk them I am climbin' See me smilin', lookin' wily, got a loced out face Suckas think they close to me? Deep inside I feel disgrace Playa Fly will never mention pan
me in the eyes of unequal High above the plains but still remains equal Livin on, no matter how fly there is no sequel I am not a supreme being, freeing
shows Wit the cops trying to control the crowd But they can't, systems crank "So What'cha Saying"'s pumping loud Blows are thrown, heads are flown like Pan Am
out in my black Trans-Am dippin on that man, who that be? TIM-BA-land, now haters wanna get at me Just because we three brothers dippin in the FLY RIDE
[Chorus] Weeed makes me fly without visa Dont give me coke nor crack or rum Cigarette smoke is just no good I am juss a ganja man Makes me fly without
word is all I have, slaughter trash Monster Mash, half ass on the war path Suffer land, give a fuck grand, crashin the Pan Am My squad Van Dammed, this
seats; Now pop your bottles, blow your cush, fuck what your man say; 'Cause you know we don't give a fuck, we let the pan play... [Chorus: Trey Songz
can't say, "You don't go and forget the down times And the walk while i was with the bad man" Many to fly right? Masterplan Miracle flight like Pan-Am
a ring on Alicia hand This lost boy got fly without Peter Pan And my delivery just got me buzzin' like the pizza man In person, I am everything and
up the bass No time to waste just dog the place R-R-R-Rocket like a missile in space Evil E keeps his 1200s in an anvil case We fly T.W.A.,Pan Am,P.S.
move snowflakes by the O Z I guess even back then you can call me C.E.O. of the ROC, Hov' Fresh out the fryin' pan into the fire I be the, music biz
New Orleans My rims so clean they spinnin like a world-wind Pull up at the club bitches textin they girlfriends They know who i is they know who i am