This is a song about "The evil angels"

Than these pseudo-intellectual hipsters, the evil,

Tell em bitches they can get up on my level

I got them saying

Now let the angels sing

More time im alone the more i see me as evil

Rather die making money than live poor and legal

Money is the root of evil.

We don't believe you, you need more people

The evil look i always rock with an evil scorn,

And then i'll lay you down and record soft porn

When it does, the angels begin to sing as they await for your life out

God forgive and we don't, keep my circle small you can't get in my crowd

But i guess that shit's just tough love

But none of them are the perfect angels

Signallin the angels of my newest moral failures

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse