Angels Around Me (Explicit Album Version) - Clean Album Version 歌词
| 歌曲 | Angels Around Me (Explicit Album Version) - Clean Album Version |
| 歌手 | DJ Kayslay |
| 专辑 | The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Lynn +Scott Heron+ Taylor & We | |
| 作词 : Lynn +Scott Heron+ Taylor & We | |
| [50 Cent] | G-UNIT! Haha.. haha |
| [Chorus 2X: 50 Cent] | |
| If, some shots should happen to go off tonight | |
| Don't worry about me, I'll be aight | |
| Niggaz can waste ten while firin at me | |
| Cause I'm God's child, there's angels around me | |
| [Young Buck] | |
| Life's a bitch and then you die, this couldn't be worse | |
| I either don't eat this week, or snatch this purse | |
| Clip hangin out the side of my car | |
| commin outta my eyes is bloodshot red, I'm high but LET'S RIDE! | |
| I ain't scared, if I die it was meant to be | |
| He might send for you, before he send for me | |
| Gun-butt you with the back of the baretta | |
| The three-fifty-seven or, the black mac-eleven | |
| We drive bulletproof Coupes nigga, go on take your shot | |
| We used to shoot hoops nigga, now we shoot up blocks | |
| Got them shells with them green tips just for y'all | |
| You can run but they comin through them concrete walls | |
| Banks dropped me off and show me where he live at | |
| Think he tough? I'ma put six in his six-pack | |
| When you hear that click-clack bitch better get back quick | |
| One to the chest make niggaz do backflips | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Lloyd Banks] | |
| You don't think I know you niggaz want me to get murked | |
| Get lowered in the dirt in all black with a button-downed shirt | |
| Cold with two to the dome - the little niggaz | |
| don't get to see Disneyland, they'll settle for a funeral home | |
| You don't need hoes to know that the lead's hot | |
| I'm prepared for anything tonight as long as it's not a headshot | |
| The bigger the rim, the bigger the tire | |
| Hollow tips'll make him feel like a nigga on fire | |
| Everybody gotta go, it's the truth | |
| So I figure while I'm waitin on my turn I'ma blow up the booth | |
| I seen niggaz in wheelchairs, eye patches and crutches | |
| Arm slings that came home to haze and dutches | |
| We can go there but need I shoot | |
| Put some holes in your Fila suit, you probably hurl when you see my Coupe | |
| I play the hood all the time cause I don't give a f**k | |
| You can shoot me down but as long as I keep gettin up, WHAT! | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [50 Cent] | |
| Shootout shots ricochet, dots in that nigga dere | |
| When your time's up, your time's up, this is real shit | |
| On my balls 'til my number calls, say a prayer | |
| hopin God hear - look, I don't fear man | |
| Wanna bang out let's bang out, I don't care man | |
| A eye for an eye, my perfect to perfections | |
| They have me sprayin automatics in every direction | |
| Call me Louie Loco, nut case, oh no | |
| I'm more like the kid that put the game in a chokehold | |
| You stunt and I stop it, I'm makin a profit | |
| Every time you hear my vo-cals comin out them lo-lo's | |
| From LA to NY, on the red-eye | |
| Teflon in my luggage, you gotta love it, I'm thuggin | |
| My street slang, my penitentiary posture | |
| Got me out sellin niggaz whole f**kin rosters | |
| I'm big in New York, like B.I.G. | |
| Plus I runs with D-R-E | |
| [Chorus] |
| zuo qu : Lynn Scott Heron Taylor We | |
| zuo ci : Lynn Scott Heron Taylor We | |
| [50 Cent] | GUNIT! Haha.. haha |
| Chorus 2X: 50 Cent | |
| If, some shots should happen to go off tonight | |
| Don' t worry about me, I' ll be aight | |
| Niggaz can waste ten while firin at me | |
| Cause I' m God' s child, there' s angels around me | |
| Young Buck | |
| Life' s a bitch and then you die, this couldn' t be worse | |
| I either don' t eat this week, or snatch this purse | |
| Clip hangin out the side of my car | |
| commin outta my eyes is bloodshot red, I' m high but LET' S RIDE! | |
| I ain' t scared, if I die it was meant to be | |
| He might send for you, before he send for me | |
| Gunbutt you with the back of the baretta | |
| The threefiftyseven or, the black maceleven | |
| We drive bulletproof Coupes nigga, go on take your shot | |
| We used to shoot hoops nigga, now we shoot up blocks | |
| Got them shells with them green tips just for y' all | |
| You can run but they comin through them concrete walls | |
| Banks dropped me off and show me where he live at | |
| Think he tough? I' ma put six in his sixpack | |
| When you hear that clickclack bitch better get back quick | |
| One to the chest make niggaz do backflips | |
| Chorus | |
| Lloyd Banks | |
| You don' t think I know you niggaz want me to get murked | |
| Get lowered in the dirt in all black with a buttondowned shirt | |
| Cold with two to the dome the little niggaz | |
| don' t get to see Disneyland, they' ll settle for a funeral home | |
| You don' t need hoes to know that the lead' s hot | |
| I' m prepared for anything tonight as long as it' s not a headshot | |
| The bigger the rim, the bigger the tire | |
| Hollow tips' ll make him feel like a nigga on fire | |
| Everybody gotta go, it' s the truth | |
| So I figure while I' m waitin on my turn I' ma blow up the booth | |
| I seen niggaz in wheelchairs, eye patches and crutches | |
| Arm slings that came home to haze and dutches | |
| We can go there but need I shoot | |
| Put some holes in your Fila suit, you probably hurl when you see my Coupe | |
| I play the hood all the time cause I don' t give a f k | |
| You can shoot me down but as long as I keep gettin up, WHAT! | |
| Chorus | |
| [50 Cent] | |
| Shootout shots ricochet, dots in that nigga dere | |
| When your time' s up, your time' s up, this is real shit | |
| On my balls ' til my number calls, say a prayer | |
| hopin God hear look, I don' t fear man | |
| Wanna bang out let' s bang out, I don' t care man | |
| A eye for an eye, my perfect to perfections | |
| They have me sprayin automatics in every direction | |
| Call me Louie Loco, nut case, oh no | |
| I' m more like the kid that put the game in a chokehold | |
| You stunt and I stop it, I' m makin a profit | |
| Every time you hear my vocals comin out them lolo' s | |
| From LA to NY, on the redeye | |
| Teflon in my luggage, you gotta love it, I' m thuggin | |
| My street slang, my penitentiary posture | |
| Got me out sellin niggaz whole f kin rosters | |
| I' m big in New York, like B. I. G. | |
| Plus I runs with DRE | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Lynn Scott Heron Taylor We | |
| zuò cí : Lynn Scott Heron Taylor We | |
| [50 Cent] | GUNIT! Haha.. haha |
| Chorus 2X: 50 Cent | |
| If, some shots should happen to go off tonight | |
| Don' t worry about me, I' ll be aight | |
| Niggaz can waste ten while firin at me | |
| Cause I' m God' s child, there' s angels around me | |
| Young Buck | |
| Life' s a bitch and then you die, this couldn' t be worse | |
| I either don' t eat this week, or snatch this purse | |
| Clip hangin out the side of my car | |
| commin outta my eyes is bloodshot red, I' m high but LET' S RIDE! | |
| I ain' t scared, if I die it was meant to be | |
| He might send for you, before he send for me | |
| Gunbutt you with the back of the baretta | |
| The threefiftyseven or, the black maceleven | |
| We drive bulletproof Coupes nigga, go on take your shot | |
| We used to shoot hoops nigga, now we shoot up blocks | |
| Got them shells with them green tips just for y' all | |
| You can run but they comin through them concrete walls | |
| Banks dropped me off and show me where he live at | |
| Think he tough? I' ma put six in his sixpack | |
| When you hear that clickclack bitch better get back quick | |
| One to the chest make niggaz do backflips | |
| Chorus | |
| Lloyd Banks | |
| You don' t think I know you niggaz want me to get murked | |
| Get lowered in the dirt in all black with a buttondowned shirt | |
| Cold with two to the dome the little niggaz | |
| don' t get to see Disneyland, they' ll settle for a funeral home | |
| You don' t need hoes to know that the lead' s hot | |
| I' m prepared for anything tonight as long as it' s not a headshot | |
| The bigger the rim, the bigger the tire | |
| Hollow tips' ll make him feel like a nigga on fire | |
| Everybody gotta go, it' s the truth | |
| So I figure while I' m waitin on my turn I' ma blow up the booth | |
| I seen niggaz in wheelchairs, eye patches and crutches | |
| Arm slings that came home to haze and dutches | |
| We can go there but need I shoot | |
| Put some holes in your Fila suit, you probably hurl when you see my Coupe | |
| I play the hood all the time cause I don' t give a f k | |
| You can shoot me down but as long as I keep gettin up, WHAT! | |
| Chorus | |
| [50 Cent] | |
| Shootout shots ricochet, dots in that nigga dere | |
| When your time' s up, your time' s up, this is real shit | |
| On my balls ' til my number calls, say a prayer | |
| hopin God hear look, I don' t fear man | |
| Wanna bang out let' s bang out, I don' t care man | |
| A eye for an eye, my perfect to perfections | |
| They have me sprayin automatics in every direction | |
| Call me Louie Loco, nut case, oh no | |
| I' m more like the kid that put the game in a chokehold | |
| You stunt and I stop it, I' m makin a profit | |
| Every time you hear my vocals comin out them lolo' s | |
| From LA to NY, on the redeye | |
| Teflon in my luggage, you gotta love it, I' m thuggin | |
| My street slang, my penitentiary posture | |
| Got me out sellin niggaz whole f kin rosters | |
| I' m big in New York, like B. I. G. | |
| Plus I runs with DRE | |
| Chorus |
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