This is a song about "Angel of death"

Of his death, such similarity

It pretends it’s a soul in a entity

The river of death has brimmed his banks

Know it good when she go no hands

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

Now the cleanest shots dreaming not of angel rocks

I see colors of red, mothers n' brothers are plunging to death

Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs

I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,

Listen here, i ain't lookin for no tears

And i'm a hit'cha wit the blow of death

Cuz she came back with the kid and yoi been payin ever since

You're my lovely angel right out of the fuckin heavens.