Rylo Rodriguez – Low Top Vanz Lyrics

Low Top Vanz – Rylo Rodriguez Lyrics

I’m getting money like a Jewish family

Tryna be father, I’m not Bryce and Bronny

My jewelry gay, it got some rainbows in it

The FN tan just like DJ Khaled

Then Big Jon died for tryna take a Xanny

My cream soda dark as Patrick Beverly

My vans white, like a human trafficker

Saw a fit in Gucci and I kidnapped it

I can see the ocean view now as I’m rapping

We smacked your people and I hate it happened

I’m fuckin' prostitutes for satisfaction

She wish her G6 high was everlasting

I’m tilting the pint bottle, like T.I. hat

I never post a shootout nigga, ‘cause I ain’t no rat

I got versatility, I’m not Doja Cat

When he get done, just tell him to bring you back

‘Cause you missing out

‘Cause you missing out, you

Missing out

I’m a project baby, I still got all my trophies on the dresser

She left out with my jacket, ‘cause she in love with Margiela

I woke up, bought a pint, but only five lines I gotta measure it

Don’t be that nigga who I charged for a feature, saying I left him

We falling off, never

It been three years and I ain’t drop, but I’m still trending

That new Lulu shirt cost so much that I wore Dingy

I left the jewelers with AP frost, this ain’t Wendy’s

I want the nigga dead so bad I’m being friendly

He caught a hat for the gang and I don’t know him

She told me put my pride aside, but I’m not Frank Ocean

When I stack my bankroll up, it’s size of Nine Vicious (Bring me back to you)

I get my swag from Japan

She’s a G6 fan

She’s a G6 fanatic

Maybach got space like NASA

I got a PT in the passenger

I got a whole lot of fugitives inside a room

I got thirteen white people on Zoom

(Bring me back to you)

You smacked a killer, but you rapped, then it ain’t a song

You could mix up uppers with some downers, but you did it wrong

Gotta do some time but I know one day it gon’ bring me home

Bring me back to you

Bring me back to you (Bring me back to you)

I don’t care about fashion, lil bro know I ain’t got no Chrome plug

I held up my hat, they played the opps song in the club

I left out the store fresh to death, long live Michael Brown

That hoe be saying “Oh my God” like Karl-Anthony Towns

(Bring me back to you)

Shawty

I wanna come back to you

Shawty, yeah, yeah

I wanna come back to you

Shawty, yeah, yeah

I wanna come back to you