P. Diddy

Angels


Imprimir canciónEnviar corrección de la canciónEnviar canción nuevafacebooktwitterwhatsapp

Uh, uh, uh
Ain't no shook hands in Brooklyn
Auto fatigued then fatigue the enemy
Look man you wanna see me locked up, shot up
Moms crotched up over the casket screamin' bastard
Cryin', know my friends is lyin'
I know who killed em' filled em
With them luggers from they rugers on they deserts
Dyin' aint the s***
But it's pleasant kinda quiet
Watch my n****s bring the riot

Came from the heavens just to sing a song for you
To the rhythm of my love for you,
And now it's beating slow, and you know
This the end of the road when I sing this slow song for you you
And love was nothin' but another gun for you
And I would hide it in my hopeless soul
I'm not afraid to go down the road where we go,
I don't know, you can hear them callin, don't you,
When the angels call like

Yo
If you don't wanna stay you can goo
But since love don't live here no more
The angels are flying so low,
Singing to you (don't you hear me callin you)
He's the one you love (cause I hear them callin me)
And he's the one you trust (now that time is almost through)
Time is runnin out (there's nothin left to do)
When they're callin you
When the angels call like (i answer)

Calling, for you, I will tell the angels now
Let them turn back in to stone
I do, love you, it's true
Fire, climbing
We ignore the angels call
They were warnings after all
It's cool, if I, pick you
When the angel's call like

Yo
If you don't wanna stay you can goo
But since love don't live here no more
The angels are flying so low,
Singing to you (don't you hear me callin you)
He's the one you love (cause I hear them callin me)
And he's the one you trust (now that time is almost through)
Time is runnin out (there's nothin left to do)
When they're callin you
When the angels call like (i answer)

Uh, uh, uh
Ain't no shook hands in Brooklyn
Auto fatigued then fatigue the enemy
Look man you wanna see me locked up, shot up
Moms crotched up over the casket screamin' bastard
Cryin', know my friends is lyin'
I know who killed em' filled em
With them luggers from they rugers on they deserts
Dyin' ain't the s*** but it's pleasant
Kinda quiet watch my n****s bring the riot


Autor(es): Carlos Broady / Christopher Wallace / Darryl McDaniels / Deric D-Dot Angelettie / James Fauntleroy I