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letra de dead friends - billy angel

i beat the f-ck outta that block
she wanna f-ck off the florida wock
i beat the f-ck outta that block
trappin hard with that dirty glock
i’m trappin’ hard with that dirty stick
my wrist glist, i step on sh-t
love the style, i kick sh-t
booming through i pull it out
on my waist that thirty round, he pullin’ up, and get drop quick
i take him down, n-gga so swish
she snorting up that taylor swift
trappin’ hard she notice me
that hoe be on her hoe sh-t
little do they know billy angel with the bros again
she be on her hoe sh-t
i’m boolin’ with my dead friends
billy ain’t got no friend
billy ain’t got no hoe
get [?] for that [?]
that freak hoe keep lookin’ at me
[?]
trappin’ hard she notice me
that hoe go off that deep end
i’m boolin’ with my dead friends
young n-gga, i’m boolin’ hard with these dead people that love me
in that trap house it get ugly
get lonely, and this glock keep me company
this glock keep me company
that trap house my boo thing
i make love in that trap house
i’m cooking up in that trap house
my wrist twirl with that love
all black with them gloves
drippin’ in that prada sh-t, she can’t give no f-ck
they tryna count me out
but, i been on this sh-t so long, i had to make a way out
they tryna count me out, but i been on this road so long, i knew a different route
down on my d-mn d-ck, they ain’t help me out
they tryna count me out, left me for dead, i’m back now
back now and i’m poppin’ out
[?] took a diffrent route
i died behind [?]
drippin’ in that prada sh-t she can’t give no f-ck
i fell in love with the cup
i fell in love with them percs, and i still do him the worst
badman finds himself alone again
talkin’ to them dead friends
badman finds himself alone again
talkin’ to them dead friends

- billy angel

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