Clear the Air

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 tight, I'll rob him

If he sweet, I'ma gobble him

If he rich, I'll slob him

If he broke, I'ma dodge him

Ain't no room for the flauging

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 ****, period!

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 **** have it

Take all a **** got, and disappear like magic

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

But that **** paper long, so I had my **** 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