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Correction Lyrics
Don't Miss
by
Rylo Rodriguez
Featuring(s) : Jackboy
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Lyrics
[Rylo Rodriguez] (Nile, I hear you) (Damn, Kai, you goin' krazy) G way G way, I like to flex with hoes If we run out of gas, go electric mode The head wasn't shit, had me pissed 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 [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 shit face My hood on my trunk, they decided to switch places I watched some niggas 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 niggas, they hoes and bitches, so we on they wig like spritz Cranberry fruit cup, hot Cheetos, granny used to beat my ass with a switch Your nigga 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 niggas go marry the game They threw they controllers when they got divorced [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 bitch 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 bitch brain but didn't get her name I kicked that bitch 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' nigga, 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 nigga 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 G way, I like to flex with hoes If we run out of gas, go electric mode The head wasn't shit had me pissed 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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