| I know a lot of motherfuckers plottin', tryna get me
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| But I’ma pull out that chopper and make them boys respect me
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| I keep on rappin' 'bout this life because I’m really 'bout it (For real)
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| I came up out my momma’s pussy sellin' narcotics (Woo)
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| People talkin', people blowin' hate
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| All they talkin' is my failure, that’s what they anticipate
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| And it ain’t my birthday, but I always got that cake
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| If you talk 'bout sellin' drugs, I got my drugs in every state
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| I kill a motherfuck and I won’t think twice
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| I’m the type o' motherfucker, that’ll take the pussy’s life (For real)
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| Ride a chopper in my trunk, and I ain’t scared to use it (Pussy)
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| The way I pull that trigger, you could say that I abuse it
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| They wanna see me dead, fill my body up with lead
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| I use to get pounds of weed from my dawg in Homestead
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| And that bull was Mexicano (Yeah), he was like the Soprano (José)
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| You’re just a fuckin' duck, I ain’t talkin' 'bout Donald (Quack, quack)
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| I see Angels and Demons, I see Angels and Demons
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| I see Angels and Demons, I feel crazy
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| I know a lot o' motherfuckers plottin', tryna get me
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| But I’ma pull out that chopper and make them boys respect me
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| I keep on rappin' 'bout this life because I’m really 'bout it (For real)
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| I came up out my momma’s pussy sellin' narcotics (Woo)
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| People talkin', people blowin' hate
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| All they talkin' is my failure, that’s what they anticipate
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| And it ain’t my birthday, but I always got that cake
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| If you talk 'bout sellin' drugs, I got my drugs in every state, ay
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| Welcome to the mind of a maniac, where the fuckin' choppers at?
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| I’m about to kill a pussy-wreck, put a hole in his snap-back
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| Snap his neck like a Kit Kat, uh
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| You the type to do credit card fraud (You's a bitch)
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| And I’m the type to sell drugs and feed my dogs
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| I’m payin' momma’s bills, I’m screamin' fuck-a-deal (Uh huh)
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| And I don’t get lost in the fame because I know this shit ain’t real
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| It’s a cold world, this shit is fucked up
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| Keep on playin' round with me, you gon' get shot up
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| I ain’t never scared (Never), I ain’t never scared (Never)
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| If they knew about my life I’d probably get the electric chair
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| I know a lot o' motherfuckers plottin', tryna get me
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| But I’ma pull out that chopper and make them boys respect me
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| I keep on rappin' 'bout this life because I’m really 'bout it (For real)
|
| I came up out my momma’s pussy sellin' narcotics (Woo)
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| People talkin', people blowin' hate
|
| All they talkin' is my failure, that’s what they anticipate
|
| And it ain’t my birthday, but I always got that cake
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| If you talk 'bout sellin' drugs, I got my drugs in every state
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| I see Angels and Demons, I see Angels and Demons
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| I see Angels and Demons, I feel crazy |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Angels and Demons , by - Stitches. Song from the album Time for Murder, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп