Songtext zu 'No Angels (feat. Lola Brooke)' von Coi Leray

(We got London on da track)

That's that stick, that stick, that mmm, that yeah
That know you keep it with me
That's that lick, that lick, that lick right there
He gon' hit from the back like he miss me
That's that stick, that stick, that mmm, that yeah
That know you keep it with me
That's that lick, that lick, that lick right there
He gon' hit from the back like he miss me

Still tryna find love for my dad, how the fuck can I love a nigga?
Only thing I'ma chase is the damn liquor
Know my brother my keeper like rae sremmurd
But my brodie be poppin' these pills, I can all the pain that he feel, so it stay with 'em
It's a hole in my heart and you can't fix it
Now I wish ain't miss all them damn visits
Bitch, that's why I keep my distance (yeah)
My neck wet, bitch, let's go fishin'
Can't fuck with these broke hoes, bad decision
Atlanta hoes scream out: That's no kizzy
I fly all the shooters out from my city
All of my shooters got one ways (one ways)
Bitch, I belong long the runway
You gonna do what the gun say
Free all the killer except all the rats (rats)
I only speak on the facts
He want to fuck and then get in his feelings (his feelings)
I like my niggas attached
All of my bundles they came in from Paris (from Paris)
I got London on da track (yeah)
Went number one on these bitches (bitches)
But we ain't gon' talk 'bout the stats

That's that stick, that stick, that mmm, that yeah
That know you keep it with me
That's that lick, that lick, that lick right there
He gon' hit from the back like he miss me
That's that stick, that stick, that mmm, that yeah
That know you keep it with me
That's that lick, that lick, that lick right there
He gon' hit from the back like he miss me

We catch licks, licks
Spend them bands, 'cause they ain't never gon' come get me
Don't catch bitch fits, 'cause I got mans, gon' make sure that clip empty
I'm gon' do and try, legacy can't die, I'ma run it up like I'm 50
Goin' through traffic, the streets is too busy
You know my body, I'm from New York city
Watch who you break bread for the cheddar
They never backdown, 'cause they live in the cellar
Was built off the muscle that came in my era
Don't live in my feelings, these bitches could never
I need my hitters on payroll forever
Leavin' these niggas, a bitch could do better
Lola on go, biny totin' barrettas
Damn, big gator, that bitch too clever

That's that stick, that stick, that mmm, that yeah
That know you keep it with me
That's that lick, that lick, that lick right there
He gon' hit from the back like he miss me
That's that stick, that stick, that mmm, that yeah
That know you keep it with me
That's that lick, that lick, that lick right there
He gon' hit from the back like he miss me