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trurebel migs - alibi/new york city love letter lyrics
[intro]
sh_t gon’ having shawty upstairs hearing me
huh
f_ck around n snake me, i’ll cut your head off & pass my b_tch the knife (truuuuuuu)
yu herd
[verse]
yeah
in this world there’s many women
dirty girls, they act clean
we lack queens
trap queens, black queens
its home bodies on the scene, sh_t
down to earth, white clean kicked
heaven sent, she still wit the sh_t
baby sneak n link a bit
won’t you skirt this quarter brick
i been swerving with the grip, ugh
dirty drawers i keep my sh_t
ambidexi with the switch
white n green against the knicks
rappin’ tryna sell these tix
jason tatum off the pick
i been ballin’ with the bigs
mally crawford with the fl!ck
might just press up the wrist
right hand stir the chicken
other hand steer the whip
n_ggas i get money with
same n_ggas cut this sh_t
barber chair he cut my sh_t
slimey n_ggas hit a l!ck
other n_ggas gotta ditch
other n_ggas talked to pigs
caught a bid n let it rip
top 5 with the spit
ain’t n0body f_ckin’ with
antibodies i been sick
gonorrhea n the siff
[new york city love letter] [intro]
put the vocals on n sh_t (cough)
check check check check
ain’t no love in the city you herd
sh_ttin’ me
lose a big chuck, f_ck around
lose myself tryna build you up
tru
[chorus]
tell me you don’t think about me
tell me you don’t think about me, yeah yeah
tell me you don’t think about me
tell me you don’t think about me, yeah yeah
tell me you don’t think about me
tell me you don’t think about me, yeah yeah
tell me you don’t think about me
tell me you don’t think about me
gimme a project chick
gimme a hood rat chick
one that don’t give no f_cks
know you seen all this drip
she could get all this d_ck
long as she don’t play no tricks
used to hold all my drugs
n you hid all my grips
yeah
[verse]
giving up on love cuz of you
all i need is god n the truth
man i swear to god im the truth
n i feel like god in the booth
rolling with my dawgs running loose
up in jaguars like its cool
got a couple strippers coming through
got em’ screaming god in the coupe, yeah
[chorus]
tell me you don’t think about me
tell me you don’t think about me, yeah yeah
give me top in your lobby
on the roof in your projects, yeah yeah
tell me you don’t think about me
tell me you don’t think about me, yeah yeah
all these hoes know about me
come n link me in private
gimme a project chick
gimme a hood rat chick
one that don’t give no f_cks
know you seen all this drip
she could get all this d_ck
long as she don’t play no tricks
used to hold all my drugs
n you hid all my grips, yeah
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