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lirik lagu still miss my niggas – 42 dugg

[intro: 42 dugg]
(free dem boys, free dem boys)
pandemic almost over, what you say (where that paper at?)
will used to be a k!ller, but you done changed
wrote a statement on your n*gga, 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 n*ggas
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, n*gga, 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 k!lled, i ain’t payin’ for no p*ssy
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 n*gga 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 suckin’ d*ck, you don’t need my number
all about the money, all about the bag
tracks kinda cool but i still f*ck 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 n*ggas
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, n*gga, 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 f*ck 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 n*ggas 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 n*ggas wanna die today?”
dumpin’ back, 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 n*ggas
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, n*gga, 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

- 42 dugg

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