Dark Angels lyrics

[Intro]
SurfGang, b*tch

[Chorus: Pasto Flocco]
Yeah, I told brodie don't pass me no Henny
That's for the thots, that's what get 'em ready
You finna bust and put mata and get in her belly
If I call you my friend and you start movin' funny, I'll f*ck around and pull me a Melly
My shooters pull up with chopsticks, yeah, this sh*t starting to feel like karate
Yeah, b*tch, I get rich like I'm Roddy
See me an opp, spin the block with the GAT and the Tommy
They mad I don't f*ck with nobody
Even though I'm Angelic, you talkin' that sh*t, man, this sh*t could get slimey
I'm from the hole with the skillers and scammers, this sh*t could get grimey

[Verse 1: Pasto Flocco]
Oh, this busy, lit
Bag, what I gotta get
Got the pole on me, gotta limp
I’ll beat a n*gga with my fist
Movie, we finna make it a movie
Shorty bad, bring your bestie, make a two piece
I am not wasting no bullets, you know that I'm shootin' to kill
Whatchu mad for? 'Cause I'm the only n*gga that was keepin' it real
He a sad boy, smokin' an opp out the Backwood
Hold only Runtz in the Backwood
Only worry 'bout money, I need more
Get some money and cop me a X4
Ol' black suburban, a big boy
Spinnin' a Honda, n*gga's spinnin' a two door
Got the drop from my thot and I know where you stay and we spin and we spin to your front door
Big Glock, this sh*t just a new toy
He a stain, then we gon' pick him off
b*tch I'm all in her belly, all up in the tenny
Off the Henny, pullin' her wig off
b*tch, you better have respect when you come to my crib
Lil' b*tch, better take your shoes off
.223, that b*tch scoring like Jordan
Four-fifth, n*gga, feelin' like Kay Roy
He be scammin' off Bitcoin, he can't afford it
I be like f*ck the past, n*gga, I can't rewind it
n*gga, f*ck all my old hoes, n*gga, I regret it
Shorty sent the risky test, she got horny when I read it
n*gga, if we friends and you ain't getting no money, n*gga, gotta dead it
And my uncle a thief in the night how he flippin' them and packs and you know he be sellin'
[Verse 2: Moh Baretta]
It's a lituation, got a lot goin' on
I just popped a banana, on the way to Mars
And might geek up off a Xanny bar
She f*ck with the kid 'cause she know I'm a star
I got druggies I know just like it's Mardi Gras
I got money wakin' me up with every call
That boy trap for real? Boy, you doin' it wrong
On the East side, we leave it hot then a pitch
Free the guy, promise over
Know I'm the one to call if they ending up in a p*ss
Only worried bout the f*ckin' money, I ain't worried 'bout no f*cking b*tch
I was down bad but you know I had get up and startin' takin' risks
So I don't get what they mad for
'Cause I got the b*tch of your dreams and I hit the shot from the back like a backboard
And her pus*y so good I put her in Celine and whatever else that she ask for
Up until 5AM gotta pass all the fees, you know a bankroll what I ask for
SGB going hard for the rackaids, on the fast route to the cash with the crash doors

[Pre-Chorus: Pasto Flocco]
Movie, we finna make this sh*t lit
Shorty be talkin', shorty be talkin' that sh*t
But may be useful, make good use of your lips
Pull up to the splizzy, come over, you a treesh, come suck some di*k

[Chorus: Pasto Flocco]
Yeah, I told brodie don't pass me no Henny
That's for the thots, that's what get 'em ready
You finna bust and put mata and get in her belly
If I call you my friend and you start movin' funny, I'll f*ck around and pull me a Melly
My shooters pull up with chopsticks, yeah, this sh*t starting to feel like karate
Yeah, b*tch, I get rich like I'm Roddy
See me an opp, spin the block with the GAT and the Tommy
They mad I don't f*ck with nobody
Even though I'm Angelic, you talkin' that sh*t, man, this sh*t could get slimey
I'm from the hole with the skillers and scammers, this sh*t could get grimey