Simari T - THIS AINT LOVE

Coming to you late on some freak shit
You know, know baby you my weakness
Doing eighty in a twenty cuz I need it
No need to tell it's our secret
Trojans, they march to the tempo
Gravity escapes while the rivers flow
Spirits lift up, up in limbo
Lawn always trimmed never over grown

Guess its time for me to pull up on you
On that demon time, you on your worst behavior
Always double dippin' you my favorite flavor
Said this aint love save that shit for later

Guess its time for me to pull up on you
On that demon time, you on your worst behavior
Always double dippin' you my favorite flavor
Said this aint love save that shit for later

I hope you

Hope you aint catchin' feelings baby
Blurred lines on weekends got you feelin' hazy
(Yeah)
Hope you aint catchin' feelings baby
(Hope you aint catchin' feelings)
Blurred lines on weekends got you feelin' hazy

Bald be your eagle when I'm swimmin' in yah
Pit stop fillin' up with diesel
Make a cinematic like we going to regal
Led lights, baby que the vinyl
Parked cars and we sippin' lokos
Big bank, stackin' up them commas
Two D's must be seeing double
Max volume and we switchin' genres

Guess its time for me to pull up on you
On that demon time, you on your worst behavior
Always double dippin' you my favorite flavor
Said this aint love save that shit for later

Guess its time for me to pull up on you
On that demon time, you on your worst behavior
Always double dippin' you my favorite flavor
Said this aint love save that shit for later

I hope you

Hope you aint catchin' feelings baby
Blurred lines on weekends got you feelin' hazy
(Yeah)
Hope you aint catchin' feelings baby
(Hope you aint catchin' feelings)
Blurred lines on weekends got you feelin' hazy

This ain't love, this ain't love
(Hope you aint catchin' feelings)

This ain't love, this ain't love
(Hope you aint catchin' feelings)

This ain't the love that your use to
Not your new dude
Chilling with the homies
Grab a bottle of that grey goose
Duckin' real low
Cut the cameras this aint YouTube
Two pairs that's too cold
Call us ice cubes
Rain pours
Legs up to the ceiling
If it aint bout the money
Ain't my business
Blast off, Space Jam
Planet fitness
Spit game and shoot shots
Scottie Pippen

Written by:
Henry Hobbs, Simari Turner

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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