Rylo Rodriguez
Bring Bac Act

[Verse 1: Rylo Rodriguez]
Fig could've been a stylist, you know he known to belt men
P.O. went to my momma house, she gon' make me turn myself in
I'm wrong 'cause I'm old enough to be his dad and I tell him, "Just spin"
Couldn't front him, he had a bad credit, you need a CPN
I'm prayin' Scooby beat his case, they got him on recording
Ain't heard from bruh, yeah, he put shit up, he turned into a hoarder
Got out the trial, I gave JM my props, I took it to the heart (Ten racks)
I got news from the prison, he fuckin' that lil' boy
Seen my brudda, we both in the field like Shilo and Shedeur
That Rollie plain, Patek still on bus', just likе Rosa Parks
Them my opps, I'll pay you a dime if you can stop they hеart (Talkin' bout a dime a piece, a dime a hat)
And I'm smashin' on a top tier vixen
He love the drank so much, he named his kid Tristan (I fucked me a cougar, she asked me what's in my double cup)
Told her, "Yes, ma'am," but I'm not Kitchens
I cut her off, but I told her it was me
On the real, we just was bondin' funny
I'm thinkin' of a plan to get my n***a free
I'm thinkin' about investing in a bonding company
I told her Yayo say he miss his mattress
Soon as I drop my album, I'll be court ready
Would've put a hundred on a n***a passin'
But I ain't never thought 'bout sports bettin'

[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
So much love for the Wock', I done named my daughter Kiki
Yesterday, spent twelve at Repeat, we finna repeat
I just seen a n***a net worth from Wiki'
I ain't used to have shit, just spent two hundred on a BPE
Me and Benwon like brothers, had the same struggles
Free my fuckin' baby bro, we shared game consoles
Ain't no fuckin' pints of Act' 'round if I ain't found
My n***a said he got a glass pint of red, why you lyin'?
Simple, a n***a shoot at us, then somebody dyin'
When you seen real shit, don't gotta rhyme 'bout it
I got a plug, got a whole case of Wockhardt for nine dollars
My brother died in a Scat so I don't like Charger
Them n***as shot my crib up and fire bombed it
I ain't cry about it, 'cause a couple n***as died before your life started
And that was in December
Yeah, I forgave them fuck n***as, but I still remember
Real weed head, just had a bulk Billy Kimber
I'm might come, big Meech, one carat leaked to my belly button
I was finna put hip but was gon' tell on something
I understand you know it all, but let me tell you something
Twelve year enhancement for a switch, better sell your button
Real snakes, if I give him a hundred K, he'll kill his brother
Got kicked out middle school, and I'm still in trouble
I'm in Mobile, ridin' with my n***a Ghetto, sippin' yellow
Of course them n***as did this shit, but we did it better
I'ma keep it alphabet, the seventh letter
It's gettin cold in this bitch, better wear a sweater
Put a hundred holes in his whip, God must be with him
Better slow it down n***as made pourin' up borin', now I'm pourin' down
I know I'm the king of Flint, I don't want a crown
Just wearin' real dog shit up in the quarter mile