Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Angels [Bonus Track]’ by A$AP Rocky. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of A$AP Rocky or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
I’m the dope mane bitches sniffin’ cocaine
All my young niggas know that they could all weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(If, if, if you see me trouble, bitch)
They call me young drug dealer
They call me young thug nigga
24 karats my slugs glitter
24 years old worth a couple million
Shouts out to my cuz niggas
Finna’ let it fly for my blood niggas
Middle finger up to you f*ck niggas
If you a trill nigga, then f*ck wit’ us
Nigga dash like a speed of a bullet
Wit’ a pistol on him prolly’ wouldn’t even pull it
Heart made of pudding, mean muggin’ wit’ a hoodie
Like what’s goodie
Tryna be the motherfucker that you couldn’t
Knowin’ you
Down to let it fly when I shouldn’t
All my young niggas they gon’ rep it to the fullest
Tell a f*ck nigga “be you, f*ck tough, be cool”
All the young niggas in crew they down to let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, jiggy young nigga like me
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
Niggas got rips in they jeans man I started that
Hood by air man I started that
Niggas claim they the God of black
Well your name is purple I’m the God of that
Gave you my back, nigga pardon that
F*ck that shit I brought mobbin’ back
Brought robbin’ back, brought the Garden back
Motherfuck black land I brought Harlem back
Rollin’ in my Benzo
Hoes on the curb a couple of friends
Rollin’ down my window
Yo what’s the word, f*ck it get in
Ride round wit’ these bimbos
She gave head to my kinfolk
Shout outs my connect though
Keep a watch out for them Winslows
‘Cause the boys gon’ creep
D-boys gone’ serve
Hoes gone skeet and the V gone swerve
I’ma get by while the world gon’ turn
I’ma get mine like you gon’ get yours
Niggas do the least do when the piece got nerve
Niggas in the streets when the heat got burned
I tell nigga “be you, f*ck tough, be cool”
Couple young niggas down with my crew who be down to let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, jiggy young nigga like me
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
Ten gold chains, wood grain, propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang