Angel de La Guarda

Pass me some paper and a pen, they thought they could get it all for free
I’ll take them down and make them sing with the automatics
How many have shot at me, how many have come at me, and I’ve rolled with them all
From north to south, east to west, Glock stays connected
I hear them, I stay quiet and keep my cool
I hit the studio, drop a track, and I’m just vibing
These little rappers at this point are using drop beats
I got some Nikes that haven’t even hit full hype
You can feel the block, you’re just a clown, a joker
I’m about to spit bars, pop that Johnny Walker
They talk about platinum records but can’t even hit bronze
If it were about lyrics, I’d already be hooking up with Beyoncé
Sometimes I’m so high I feel like I’m on the moon
And I’ve been rapping since I was in the crib
Money and fortune
Pop the champagne, let the bubbles rise
You stuck, baby, or you just don’t have ink in your pen?
I make cash even when I lay down and get up
Every 3 hours the numbers in the bank go up
That’s how we roll, get back to your nest, pigeon
'Cause the plastic’s versatile, spitting lead

We’re ready, licking to aim at you with the cherry
Unwrap the sticky to roll it in the blueberry leaf
I’ve been in this for a while, tell Ñengo out, dirty
You’re not rolling in millions, put on your Ever Readys

We’re ready, licking to aim at you with the cherry
Unwrap the sticky to roll it in the blueberry leaf
I’ve been in this for a while, tell Ñengo out, dirty
You’re not rolling in millions, put on your Ever Readys

Don’t be stupid, the Glock is aggressive
Don’t be stupid, the Glock is aggressive
Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid
Don’t be stupid, no, no, no, no

Clearing the way, also firing shots
With just one magazine, see you later, dad
The street’s no game, you’ll hit the ground hard
Millions Records is back, and we’re in control
I walk through valleys of death, this crew is too strong
The FN’s lit and wants to run out your luck
Banana clips, drums with maracas
You haven’t seen how the AKs thump

So chill, bro, just go, stop messing around
People like you on the street are losing face
The pressure’s building, people are dying
Don’t ask me, man, 'cause I don’t know
Maybe they got set up, or they flexed on someone
Maybe they flipped and the others caught them
They got shot, in the mouth, across the back
Brother, in this time, there are no fools left
With Randy Glock and the L, we keep rising
Ñengo’s hurting them when I record in the booth
Stay calm or I’ll run you over
Don’t be stupid, the Glock is aggressive

Hahaha, Randy Glock
Passing the drop, passing the drop
Millions Records, Ñengo Flow
Fabrian Eli, Sinfonico
Fendell and Omi
Hahaha
The owner of the art, Full Records
Yeah, no more to say
Millions Records
We’re in the digital, smashing satellites
Tell me, Lexter
Ñengo Flow