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City Girls - Clear the Air Lyrics



City Girls - Clear the Air Lyrics
Official




(Audio)

Thirty-inch lace, so I sat on his face
I'm from the Loc's, I could tell you how the top feel
Quarter mil' on a new crib, red bottoms on blue heels
Pop bottles like New Years
If he high I'ma rob him, if he sweet I'ma gobble him
If he rich, I'll slob him, if he broke, I'ma dodge him
In a room, full of flodgin'
He wanna f*ck without his rubber on (nah)
Cuban link, but its color gone
So you know a bitch never wrong
You a broke ass f*ck nigga, period
And it ain't shit, you can tell me, I ain't hearin' it

Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah
Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah

Let's clear the air, ain't shit sweet (period)
Can't f*ck me, suck me, or touch me, 'less ends meet (where the bag at?)
I been savage, been lettin' niggas have it
Take all a nigga got, and disappear like magic (boy bye)
I couldn't tell if he was Haitian or Jamaican
But that nigga paper long, so I had my niggas waitin'
Took the money on vacation, on an island, Venezuela
Margaritas with my bitches, livin' life, Caucasian
I gave a f*ck about no ho
Who fell off, but still want smoke
Now that's a low blow
Yung Miami, that's my dog, two in a row
City Girls all year, y'all hoes know

Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah
Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(Audio)

Thirty-inch lace, so I sat on his face
I'm from the Loc's, I could tell you how the top feel
Quarter mil' on a new crib, red bottoms on blue heels
Pop bottles like New Years
If he high I'ma rob him, if he sweet I'ma gobble him
If he rich, I'll slob him, if he broke, I'ma dodge him
In a room, full of flodgin'
He wanna f*ck without his rubber on (nah)
Cuban link, but its color gone
So you know a bitch never wrong
You a broke ass f*ck nigga, period
And it ain't shit, you can tell me, I ain't hearin' it

Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah
Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah

Let's clear the air, ain't shit sweet (period)
Can't f*ck me, suck me, or touch me, 'less ends meet (where the bag at?)
I been savage, been lettin' niggas have it
Take all a nigga got, and disappear like magic (boy bye)
I couldn't tell if he was Haitian or Jamaican
But that nigga paper long, so I had my niggas waitin'
Took the money on vacation, on an island, Venezuela
Margaritas with my bitches, livin' life, Caucasian
I gave a f*ck about no ho
Who fell off, but still want smoke
Now that's a low blow
Yung Miami, that's my dog, two in a row
City Girls all year, y'all hoes know

Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah
Bitch I want smoke, let's clear the air
My bitches on go and we'll get there
Thirty on my bag, that's brick fair
Y'all hoes won't last, we gon' snap all year, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Caresha Brownlee, Jatavia Johnson, Omar Wright, Tyronne Nelms
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, O/B/O DistroKid

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