Clear The Air - City Girls

Thirty inch lace, so I sat on his face

I’m from the Loc’s, I could tell you how the top feel

Quater mil on a new crib, red bottoms on blue heels

Pop bottles like New Years

If he tight 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

No room for broke dudes or flaw niggas

He wanna fuck without his rubber on

Cuban link, but its color gone, so you know a bitch never wrong

You a broke ass fuck nigga, period!

And it ain’t shit, you can tell me, I ain’t hearing 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

Can’t fuck me, suck me, or touch me, 'less ends meet

I been savage, been letting niggas have it

Take all a nigga got, and disappear like magic

I couldn’t tell if he’s was Haitian or Jamaican

But that nigga paper long, so I had my niggas waiting

Took the money on vacation, on an island Venezuela

Magaritas with my bitches, living life, Caucasian

I give a fuck about no hoe, who fell off

But still want smoke, now thats a low blow

Yung Miami, that’s my dawg too, we on a roll

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