Devil’s Angel lyrics

[Hook: Chris Swagg]
Black on my gloves, black on my hoodie
I got it on me for any pus*y n*gga that push me
If I want it, I take it, angel of Satan
I'm a hitter for hitters, just know that Jesus was waiting
Black on my gloves, black on my mask
It's a funeral, n*gga, that's on the gas
Life, I'mma take it, angel of Satan
I'm a hitter for hitters, just know that Jesus was waiting

[Verse 1]
Far from a angel, more like a devil
Black SUVs, heavy metal, got my foot on the pedal
Murdering you right where you stand if I ever catch you
I can fill your back up with shells from this .38 special
Won't stop till I murder every rapper, I'm finna replenish
Went through a killing spree for years and I never repented
Father, forgive me, I sinned and have no problem admitting
I'm like God to these b*tches, my only problem's a mitten
Got black on my gloves, black on my mask
Shoot every hit, miss and I'm coming back on yo' ass
I won't hold back, I'mma blow and knock you flat on yo' ass
My lil' n*ggas'll blow and they ride for the cash
I'm a hitter for hitters, I sold my soul to the streets
These motherf*ckers thought I sold my soul to the beast
Don't give a f*ck about the murder rate, I'll help it increase
I got the realer gorilla sh*t embedded in me
If I should die right now, I pray my dark soul you can keep
Cause I'm corrupted, I hang with killers, gangstas, elites
I'm up in this b*tch wildin' for Chiraq, what you think?
I catch him in traffic, wreck it and rock him to sleep
[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Fresh off the corner where n*ggas hustle and kick it
Politicking with gangstas and f*cking with b*tches
But never lock and try me, the sh*t'll get different
They know that I keep it on me and God as my witness
I been the business, why they think I'm holding the torch
I was only 12 or 13 when I first rapped on the porch
Battling n*ggas up in the park, I wasn't playing no sports
Man, I wanted the whole thing, I wasn't taking no shorts
I call up the guys, and we take a ride
If we catch you lacking, n*gga, then we getting fire
Cause we tryna rock you, don't wanna see you alive
If we slide up on him, Swiss cheese him, he won't survive
I'm telling you n*ggas ain't ready, b*tch, any n*gga could get it
Money, power and pus*y, yes, that's my religion
Proper preparation prevents poor performance in winning
I'm from where them n*ggas ain't hungry but they stay in the kitchen
I tell they mama to pray, look, b*tch, I'm God
I know I sinned in the past but I beat the odds
I put in work, I did it for squad
Forever, I'm cursed, I done been hit from the mob

[Hook]