Texty:
The Black Angels True Believers

who knows which birds Will be left for me? Hare came to me In the month of August Mary loves Sally the most Maybe Buddha is the true Son of God's kiss

who knows which birds Will be left for me? Hare came to me In the month of August Mary loves Sally the most Maybe Buddha is the true Son of God's kiss

the loot loop I ain't no muthafuckin' gangsta, wish you'd quit callin' me that Although I still pack straps, I roll in Benzes and Lacs Best believe

this girl Yeah? Man, she so fine Straight up dawg She stand about 5?4? Coca-Cola red bone Damn! She drive a black Durango Mmm License plate say ?Angel

blue, the blackness is true My tactics was new that's when the practice grew and I flew I wanted to be a rapper so simple and plain From Los Angeles

mission, We offer you a position, Where Tech will rule and condition your brain. To know actin' a fool is the vision, Caribou Lou is tradition, And the way to be true

this jail in my mind there's a darkest space trapped in an even darker cell you got to see it to believe it's true that's why it's so hard to believe

primo beats, meditate a bit to elevate my spit Scribble daily scripts, hell in wit Angels I strangle, the instrument mangle, chop can't go pop I gotta remain boom bap, true

lie La la lie la la lie la la lie, ha I've got a real one for you I'm done with compromise Lies of white and black and blue They hide inside those big brown eyes You've got me, dirty angel