(Oh) You?re my angel (Yes, you are) Angel (My angel) You?re my angel Whoa, whoa (Oh) You?re my angel (My angel) Angel (My angel) You?re my angel (My
Übersetzung: B3. Du bist mein Engel.
you hear my vocals Comin' out them low lows From L.A. to NY On the Red Eye Teflon in my luggage You got to love it I'm thuggin' my street slang, my penitentiary
in LA (Let my angel sing) Chorus Outro: Makaveli This go out for 92.3, and 106 All the radio stations that be bumpin my shit Makin my shit sells katruple
pretend Pick up my pen, in my hand One of my trusted friend friend, hey Open it let's see if we're real, we all suited Beg my pardon to Martin Baby we
in my right hand, my plug's in my left hand, punk Cypress Hill worldwide, you just a local Don't anger me, or you can hear it in my vocal You don't want
up, put em up) My hood niggas can you feel me(I gave you we taking over) I'm so hood And It you're not from here you can walk it out If You don't know
laugh I?m the real macaroni you cheesy bitch, I?m demonic with the craft There?s a devil in my noodle, you angel hair pasta Flows dreaded like some f-
with my set, you get your crew strangled I won?t be convicted like Jimmy Coonan And you not a gangster, who the fuck you think you fooling? My ruthless
take my money And I take my time when I take my money I'm always careful when I make my money I know about niggas gettin quaked by money But The Horsemen
that wanted the angels to stop crying Keep struggling we'll support you You're gonna make mistakes still support you When you make mistakes we'll be there for you
of my center, if you ain't down with the inner You lightweight punk soprano singers better never bang with the tenor I'ma give it to you like a rogue
out of my center, if you ain't down with the inner You lightweight punk soprano singers better never bang with the tenor I'ma give it to you like a rogue
s how we do with one and other You just met that bitch tonight And now you actin' like you love her Fuck you, you a whore I gotta keep it real I shook
Angel, girl, I know you're frontin 'Why must you be like that?' With your flat ass along with your flat chest Got your back tied to a matress Undercover hoe, but you're
50 on a chain But every 365 bro, you get a little wiser And realize all that stupid shit you bought was lame Cause it dont mean shit, when you're out
you're high (high) I walk by so F a drive (by) I swing up in it battin average is half as good as Reggie Jack Is dats why you talk backwards and uh chumps
baby, born in a manger Trouble is my friend, I ain't far in the danger Clip full of wings, turn you boys into angels Shoot ya in your halo, shoot you
