Don’t Miss lyrics

by

Rylo Rodriguez


[Intro: Rylo Rodriguez]
(Nile, I hear you)
(Damn, Kai, you goin' krazy)
G way

[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
G way, I like to flex with hoes
If we run out of gas, go electric mode
The head wasn't sh*t, had me p*ssed cammode
No trouble with hits, they remixed the bowl
Tryna nut on her face, I won't miss your nose
She was gon' French, but I choked her, I ain't kissin' a ho
Whole team balling, we just gon' pick and roll
And we carrying the guns and I missed the show
f*ck these couches and tables, we stand on 'em
Your brother look bad, put your mans on
A wide body, she got a tan on
f*ckеd a booster, I slept with my pants on
What the hеll I look like doing a diss song?
I'm tryna make a don't miss song
(Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew)
I'm tryna make a don't miss song

[Verse 1: Rylo Rodriguez]
Said trapping is dead, bring bags to the funeral
I don't even got a bed don't care 'bout no rumors (room)
You don't hit nothin', no sweat, as long as you're shooting
I just want the bread, you can keep the communion
I'm with bae in the 'Vette, my old ho got a sh*t face
My hood on my trunk, they decided to switch places
I watched some n*ggas go to jail and they turning snakes
Hood hot laws out, you tell me which way
I got some homies in jail
We sharpen our knives, that turn to a blick, yeah
I'm going up elevators, jumped off and went to the stairs, I thought about Mitch
A lot of these n*ggas, they hoes and b*tches, so we on they wig like spritz
Cranberry fruit cup, hot Cheetos, granny used to beat my ass with a switch
Your n*gga a rat and I don't need to talk about it
That boy got caught and agreed to talk about it
Pistol, no, I cannot leave the house without it
MoMa, my shirt and my jeans was Off-Whited
I got some Wock in my pores
If you need it to be cleaned, do your chores
I watched n*ggas go marry the game
They threw they controllers when they got divorced
[Verse 2: Jackboy]
Bought a Cartier ring, I can't get divorced
Fell in love with Dior, would've thought I'm endorsed
All that dirty money, I'm not tryna do chores
Shop when I land, show the mall no remorse
Fly guy with bands, I could f*ck any whore
Get sloppy top then don't want her no more
f*ck all the opps, let's go take 'em to war
Running with sticks, that b*tch came with a sword
The game feeling strange, lames in it for fame
They're goin' insane for a lil' piece of change
I got that b*tch brain but didn't get her name
I kicked that b*tch out, you made her your main
I figured it out, we just not the same
Used to be broke, look what I became
I could buy a car with each of my chains
Icy lil' n*gga, gotta keep my flame
Bustdown Thotiana, no, I do not do plain
Picture perfect, I ain't even need a frame
When I was broke, I was the only n*gga I could blame
Now I'm balling hard throwings bows in the paint
All these blue hundred make a broke ho faint
Pull up back-to-back coupe, me and gang switching lanes
Put the law on a chase, so much guns to explain
Get an opp out the way, all my shooters got aim
[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
G way, I like to flex with hoes
If we run out of gas, go electric mode
The head wasn't sh*t had me p*ssed cammode
No trouble with hits, they remixed the bowl
Tryna nut on her face, I won't miss your nose
She was gon' French, but I choked her, I ain't kissin' a ho
Whole team balling, we just gon' pick and roll
And we carrying the guns and I missed the show
f*ck these couches and tables, we stand on 'em
Your brother look bad, put your mans on
A wide body, she got a tan on
f*cked a booster, I slept with my pants on
What the hell I look like doing a diss song?
I'm tryna make a don't miss song
(Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew)
I'm tryna make a don't miss song
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