This is a song about "Ashley the angle"

With knowledge and leverage to angle the desperate

Give it to these broads,imake em soar back and all that

I'm optimistic like playing keeno with all that you got

From any angle, you can't handle my diddy bop/

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Black fours red drop head doors

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

See it's effortless, these niggas can't step up in my shoes

Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Wale, d.c. thats me, huh

I bring the heat like the

The more battles the better the flows

For all the killas and the 100 dollar hoes

Uptown roamers, and south side riders

My lines are angle grinders