[Yung Miami]
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
[J.T.]
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
[J.T.]
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 doll to, we on a roll
City Girls all year, y'all hoes know
[J.T.]
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
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