Rylo Rodriguez - Still Miss My Niggas lyrics

[Intro: 42 Dugg] (Free dem boys, free dem boys) Pandemic almost over, what you say (Where that paper at?) Will used to be a killer, but you done changed Wrote a statement on your ni**a, this sh*t be crazy You ain't going for a thing, I used to praise him (Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients) [Chorus: 42 Dugg] I still miss my ni**as V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this b*tch I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too Bust down Richard but my ho one too You ain't gotta ask, ni**a, know I'm shootin' On Rece, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' sh*t slide Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-sh*t-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty, thirty-six for a pound, not cookie [Verse 1: 42 Dugg] All the drug dealers wanna book me Paid to get you killed, I ain't payin' for no pussy And I'm kinda schooled, don't sh*t, beat you triple Ask about me, youngin', dawg, he always on the mission Always first to shoot with that .30, I act different If he ain't dead, guarantee that ni**a crippled, my bad You still on the phone, yeah, with Drekk fine ass Last time tryna love, sh*t, I hope it work Still holdin' for my youngin' really fightin' murders First time on the hit, I was kinda nervous (Swear) You ain't into su*kin' dick, you don't need my number All about the money, all about the bag Tracks kinda cool but I still fu*k with 'Cats Spin the block on 'em, throw them b*tches at his neck Can't forget about me, b*tches know I'm still the catch Million dollars in cash, you will get stretched [Chorus: 42 Dugg] I still miss my ni**as V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this b*tch I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too Bust down Richard but my ho one too You ain't gotta ask, ni**a, know I'm shootin' On Rece, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' sh*t slide Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-sh*t-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty, thirty-six for a pound, not cookie [Verse 2: Rylo Rodriguez] Know I fu*k with James Harden but I'll never leave the rocket 'Fore I let her waste my time, I put on all my watches Thousand dollar jeans, my momma told me, "Son, that's outta pocket" Literally holdin' thirty pairs of Amiri jeans 'Member doin' shows for a rack, I drove four hours for that My folks shared a hotel with the gang, I brought like four hundred back Ridin' 'round with pistols in our laps, we ain't runnin' no track Lot of ni**as cap, Ion't wanna boss but I took off my hat I was twenty years old when I stole my momma coat, we was at TJ Maxx Now it's foreigns in the driveway, which one I'm gon' drive today? Told the opps, "I got manners, one of you ni**as wanna die today?" Diamondback hangin' out the window, have 'em dancin' like Sada Baby Know a Blood don't watch football 'less he bang 'gainst the Redskins Twenty racks on Cuban links, not African-American Put them chains on then went way faster Feel like a ex-slave master [Chorus: 42 Dugg & Rylo Rodriguez] I still miss my ni**as V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this b*tch (Trip in this b*tch) I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too Bust down Richard but my ho one too You ain't gotta ask, ni**a, know I'm shootin' On Rece, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' sh*t slide Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-sh*t-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty, thirty-six for a pound, not cookie [Outro: 42 Dugg] All the drug dealers wanna book me Still movin', talkin' 'bout no cookies All the drug dealers wanna book me All the drug dealers wanna book All the drug dealers wanna book me