Kyro the Egyptian & OG Smxxv - A N G E L S

Whats up B. White
Yeah, yeah yeah
Okay, we got B. White on the beat man
Yeah, yeah
Fighting demons I’m protected by these angels
(By these angels)
Got this shit up in the lock I’m Curt Angle
(I’m Curt Angle)
I been running up that check like I got cankles
(I got cankles)
I been running up that check like I got cankles
(Yeah yeah yeah!)
Know a nigga got them stripes just like a Bengal
(Like a Bengal)
Trying to pull up flex out with a bankroll
(With a bankroll)
Hating on me, that is something I can’t do
(No I can’t do)
Hating nigga thats is something I can’t do
(No I can’t do)
All these blue on me but I ain’t no banger
(Yeah yeah)
Yellow gold on me feel like I’m in danger
(Yeah)
I’m on lean and I’m sipping on tapanga
(On tapanga)
If I see you I might treat you like a stranger
(You a stranger bitch)
If you know me then you probably understand, yeah
(Stand there)
Can’t assist you all these bands in my hands, yeah
(All these bands in my hands)
These blue genies ain’t no room in my pants, yeah
(Aint no room in my pants yeah)
Ain’t too late join the club while you can, yeah
(Yeah!)
Sipping tex, feel like Walker Texas Ranger
(Walker Texas Ranger)
My bitch black, but she got lips like she Tapanga
(She Tapanga)
Country nigga, I might still put on some Wranglers
(We some wranglers)
At Benihana, but I still want chicken fingers
(Yeah yeah yeah)
Got the text and them I’m coming through
Baby trying fuck on you
I’m just trying to fuck on you
I’m the shit like number 2
Pack shut down, I’m gone run em through
Real niggas don’t watch the news
House don’t track nigga watch my shoes
Hurt my feet I don’t wear no Louis’s
I be styling on you niggas I’m too steezy
(I’m too steezy bitch)
You niggas dress code dairy it be cheesy
(You niggas lame)
If you step on my Giuseppe’s we getting greasy
(Bitch you getting hit)
If you think telling tales don’t believe me
(Yeah)
I can do you one better, I’m gone show you, yeah
(I’m gone show you, yeah)
I’m really doing tell you, ain’t gone hoe you, yeah
2020 that’s my year I’m going global, yeah
(I’m going global, yeah)
I’ll be still walking round like I’m feeling noble, yeah
(Yeah, aye)
Yeah, I was in the focus yeah
(Yeah I come from real)
Car broke down, get off my grind, I had to focus yeah
(No cap)
Had dirt on my back
I spread my wings I feel like a locus yeah
Had trained on my own
And pulled my own weight, this ain’t locomotion yeah
Big cuz had aces, 24’s on em think he Kobe Kobe
PJ put them ice cubes on his neck
He think he Smokey Smokey
Niggas talking tough on internet
Should work for Adobe dobe
Smoking on this dopey
Got me rolling like a rolley polley
Ice around my neck it cost a check yeah
Apple Watch around My wrist ain’t no Patek yeah
Fendi bottoms like they sitting in a nest yeah
Me and smxxv throwing checks we playing fetch ya
(Bitch we throwing)
Smxxv and PJ slinging packs with no regrets yeah
Boss moves like a nigga playing chest yeah
Hit em for the pack ain’t no delay up on the text yeah
(Fuck nawl nigga)
Got the shipment off now it’s back to getting neck yeah

Written by:
Keith Lee, Russell Jones

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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