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Angel

Genres: Rock

On The Low (remix) Lyrics - Angel

On the low, what's up with you ho 

Bitches smokin' dro 

Bet you know 

Bust like forty four 

When I spit that flow 'cuz we go hard 

Like that shit they hustle on the boulevard 

Fuck your broad 

Bitch I bet I could, bitch I bet I would 

 

Lemme get it, lemme get it, lemme get it right now 

That's the shit I've been on 

R A double T P A C K 

You know we (know we) shit on 

Anybody in the way all day 

I'm livin' my life boy you know to the fullest 

These women, they love us, they push us and pull us 

Just me and my team takin' shots without bullets 

Gettin' this money, you know we don't bullshit 

People they love it, they know the name 

I got a little change, but I'm still the same 

So break it down, break it down 

The shit I'm rockin, they don't make it now 

I've got haters and they talk shit 

But that's okay, I've got real shit 

That's heartfelt, make you feel shit 

But right now it's time for that trill shit 

Killers and murderers, dealers and burglars 

Round my way, they never heard of you 

From that West Deer Park 

Where they kill after dark but that never occur to you 

Been broke, dirt broke 

While my brothers was hustlin' pushin' that coke 

That's the life of a G, but it wasn't for me 

And for real, that's the reason I wrote 

 

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On the low, I be so high, touchin' the sky 

I got a wood, so fuck the world, until I die 

If you ain't know, it's Kid Ink baby, representin' alumni 

I'm off three shots but, you ain't hear the gun cock 

Fat ass blunt nigga, yours looks sun dried 

What it do, I'm on two 

Tell 'em straight up, no juice 

Never goin' back to the broke old days 

But I've got a room full of retro J's 

Never seen these, look back at it 

I see your bank and I laugh at it 

Blowin' kush up, like an air mattress 

One hit will leave a nigga asthmatic 

And we goin' up, ain't nobody sober 

Know that molly, uncut, eighteen and over 

Got three chains, two girls, hangin' over my shoulders 

Give it up in one motion, know that money is the motive 

 

Photos 

 

My time, my time is now 

I cannot wait 

They say that love, it comes with hate 

When I made it out the streets 

Is when that love it turned to hate 

I didn't turn up, I turned away 

The time is short, no time to waste 

All these niggas up in my face, they ain't my friends 

All these niggas up in my face, they ain't my friends 

I've got fam servin' fiends 

And fiends I call my fam 

If you wanna keep your bitch 

Then make sure she don't cross my path 

'Cuz if she do, she see my shoes 

She peep my swag, she get online 

Check my background 

Bitch you seen that cash 

My only motto about that money is get more 

My only motto about that money is get more (mo', mo') 

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Idiota

Artist: Huecco