Angels lyrics

by

Drake


[Intro]
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell a whole thang from the cellphone rang
I'm the dope mane, b*tches sniffing cocaine
All my young n*ggas know that they could always
Call me, call me, call me
Always
Call me, call me, call me
Always
Call me, call me, call me
Always
Call me, call me, call me
If-if-if you see me trouble, b*tch

[Verse 1]
They call me Young Drug Dealer
They call me Young Thug n*gga
24 karats my slugs glitter
24 years old worth a couple million
Shoutouts to my cuz n*ggas
Finna let it fly for my blood n*ggas
Middle finger up to you f*ck n*ggas
If you a trill n*gga then f*ck with us
n*gga dash like a speed of a bullet
With a pistol on him, probably wouldn't even pull it
Heart made of pudding
Meanmuggin' with a hoodie like, what's goodie?
Tryin' to be the motherf*cker that you couldn't knowin' you
Down to let it fly when I shouldn't
All my young n*ggas, they gon' rep it to the fullest
Tell a f*ck n*gga, "Be you", f*ck tough, be cool
All the young n*ggas in my crew, they down to let it fly
[Pre-Chorus]
For a n*gga like me, young n*gga like me (They let it fly)
For a n*gga like me, young n*gga like me (They let it fly)
For a n*gga like me, young n*gga like me (They let it fly)
For a n*gga like me, jiggy young n*gga like me (Flex)

[Chorus]
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, right)
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Yeah, yeah)
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, yeah)
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Uh, right)

[Verse 2]
n*ggas got rips in they jeans, man, I started that
Hood By Air, man, I started that
n*ggas claim they the God of black
Well, your name is purple, I'm the God of that
Gave you my back, n*gga, pardon that
f*ck that sh*t, I brought mobbin' back
Brought robbin' back
Brought the Garden back
Motherf*ck Black Land, I brought Harlem back
Rollin' in my Benzo
Hoes on the curb, a couple of friends
Rollin' down my windows
Yo, what's the word? f*ck it, get in
And ride 'round with these bimbos
She gave head to my kinfolk
Shoutouts my connect though
Keep a watch out for them Winslows
'Cause the boys' gon' creep, D-boys gon' serve
Hoes gon' skeet and the V gon' swerve
I'ma get by while the world gon' turn
I'ma get mine like you gon' get yours
n*ggas do the least when the piece got nerve
n*ggas in the streets when the heat got burned
I'll tell a n*gga, "Be you", f*ck tough, be cool
Couple young n*ggas down with my crew who be down to let it fly
[Pre-Chorus]
For a n*gga like me, young n*gga like me (They let it fly)
For a n*gga like me, young n*gga like me (They let it fly)
For a n*gga like me, young n*gga like me (They let it fly)
For a n*gga like me, jiggy young n*gga like me (Flex)

[Chorus]
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, right)
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Yeah, yeah)
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, yeah)
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Uh, right)
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, right)
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Yeah, yeah)
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, yeah)
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Uh, right)

[Outro]
Right
Right
Right
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