Pay the man We've been standing out here way too long The gates are closed Tall grass, and grave plots shall stand alone It's safe to say These graves
for abandoning me Praying but I think I'm still an angel away Angel away, yeah strange in a way Maybe that is why I chase strangers away They got their guns out
Yeah I know she look good but you need to stop staring I drew a picture of her that would make her proud But the door was locked and the TV up so loud I scream out
runnin out (there's nothin left to do) when they're callin you When the angels call like (i answer) Verse 2: calling, for you, i will tell the angels
black out Tear up the stack house Comin' out detention or they always rat (Come on, pick it up, ride through) Oh, I said, oh, yeah When they come to lock
any means Call him necessary, the great visionary Born extraordinary, a life legendary Who else put flows out that put clothes out? Flee the cold weather, short sleeves with my toes out
whole fam and media Greedy shit, tag ya out the rag Jag, speedy shit Look in the sky, the four horsemen bustin no discussion No stoppin its apocalypse, lock
riot When the angels call like When the angels call like When the angels call like When the angels call like When the angels call like When the angels
knocked to ground by a single word I get ripped apart when you play my heart Locked and loaded, I get blown away Blow me out, blow me in I will always let you in Check me out
angels lookin' down on me cryin' For a lyin' ass but yo forgive us in a while And I'm sorry, never let me forget that I'm your child While I'm locked
me miss, you must be some kind of a model Enough to make a shopper run out of the column Enough to make a weak nigga go mano y mano Guess what you strong as rum out
This endless addiction I feed Angels on fire They fall from the sky Heaven and hell will be burning tonight Covered in ashes I cry out your name And out
:rudolf schenker Lyrics:klaus meine She's knocking at my door That little angel knows the score She's knocking at my door But I won't let her out no
This endless addiction I feed Angels on fire, they fall from the sky Heaven and hell will be burning tonight Covered in ashes, I cry out your name And out
azz, straight up! Angels runnin us off, I ain't runnin my mouth, spade for spade I'm the realest nigga out, Know what I'm talkin bout My niggas let Joc out
One thousand, 'nay, a million voices, full of fear. And terror posessed me then. And I begged, "Angel Of The Lord, what are these totured screams?" and the Angel
wings now the angels is calling uhh The good son Macaulay Culkin Getting money til my last show Word up to Oprah, the whips pull out like a leather sofa
Woo (ahh, ahh) Yo, Yo, Yo. This goes out to all my peoples Down in the Weak Way section and all my peoples in the Hootieville Section. Word is bond. Jamaica
