Face Down Lyrics – City Girls
Uh, Miami (Ah yeah)
Yeah (Ah yeah)
What good is that *** bag if he don’t spend it
Bad *** love shoppin’ sprees last minute
Bags packed, flights booked, ***, we ain’t trippin’
Buy the grub, bring some more ones, don’t let him start tippin’, no
Face down, ass up, *** me out (*** me out)
I don’t even let a broke *** eat me out (Eat me out)
He know this *** stay wet in the middle of droughts
I make him face me, nasty, squirt in his mouth (Damn)
I need that car paid for and a new house
Said “Do I look basic? Wife me now”
I heard cash rules, let me show you how
Better spend that ***, baby, ice me out (Period)
Handcuff, left right, both cheeks
Housekeeper and I can still ***’ up the sheets (Ah)
To the valet, y’all niggas so cheap
If you lookin’ for a wee ***, you know it ain’t me (Period)
*** ain’t free, you better spend that *** (Spend that ***)
Since my momma gave birth, man, I been that *** (Been that ***)
Got it fresh off the runway, I’m in that ***
He said he love me, he show me, he meant that *** (Ah)
Laid it down, lay him off for the town
Ayy, JT, yeah
Shoutout my *** gettin’ bags out of niggas (Yeah)
I think I just leveled up, hoes say I’m weirder (What?)
I’m in that big bulletproof with a hit in (Ah)
If he ain’t blowin’ a bag, ***, pick a better ***
I’m in that new coupe, might go vroom-vroom
*** that be hatin’ on me really ain’t got no room (None)
I mean literally, no house ***, no room (Ew)
I’m a city girl, so he gotta be a tycoon
Face down, ass up, that-that’s the way I like to *** (Wow)
You want a *** from the city, huh? *** pretty, huh?
Got a *** out of motherfuckin’ Philly, uh
What good is that *** bag if he don’t spend it
Bad *** love shoppin’ sprees last minute
Bags packed, flights booked, ***, we ain’t trippin’
Buy the grub, bring some more ones, don’t let him start tippin’, no
What good is that *** bag if he don’t spend it
Bad *** love shoppin’ sprees last minute
Bags packed, flights booked, ***, we ain’t trippin’
Buy the grub, bring some more ones, don’t let him start tippin’, no