Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lost Angels (feat. The Game), artist - R-MEAN. Date of issue: 24.10.2012
Song language: English
Lost Angels (feat. The Game) |
| Mother fucking game |
| My hood |
| My block |
| My city loves me |
| For the things I do |
| And there ain’t no way to stop me |
| They all seen where I’ve been |
| Already know where I’m from |
| But you can’t go if can’t follow in the footsteps of a lost angel |
| If you on top I’m 'bout to push you off B |
| I’m like a wobbly bridge over treacherous waters |
| Don’t cross me |
| I can give you my address |
| Even give you the cross street |
| You be usin' that mapquest |
| Still I bet you get lost B |
| It’s R-Mean homie |
| I don’t squash beef |
| I hold grudges |
| You cross me and Ima kill all you mothafuckas |
| Strictly spit the types of shit you feel |
| So they be like «Yo he ain’t Jewish but he is-Real» |
| My yamaka us my dodger fitted |
| Its a holocaust how the R will off these garbage soft rappers |
| No Hitlers |
| Came from humble beginnings |
| Now we humble contenders |
| With a flow that’s sharp enough to circumcise all of your infants |
| Yeah |
| Homie I’m rocky in that slaughterhouse |
| Cocky like your daughter’s mouth |
| Shawty’s 'bout the bottles that we poppin' |
| As we order rounds |
| Its goin' down |
| These bitches prove that |
| And I don’t eat her pussy |
| I get other chicks to do that |
| On my grind since '05 |
| I had a cutless |
| But I ain’t have no drive |
| All I ever wanted to be was a street nigga |
| Dre put me in a freestyle battle to eat niggas |
| So I did |
| Now my kids in private school |
| And I’m on private jets |
| It ain’t a fuckin' thing I regret |
| There ain’t a fuckin' thing I respect |
| Except God |
| Drinkin' Ace of Spades |
| Pull every one of you niggas' cards |
| Fuck every one of your broads |
| No remorse |
| Take the condom off |
| Nut in that bitch |
| And let the sperm take its course |
| Dr. Evil |
| My attitude worse than Styles P |
| 10 times worse than Beanie Sigel |
| I’m the sequel |
| Speak my name and Ima see you |
| You ain’t never seen a devil in a bullet proof regal |
| Clutchin 2 eagles like thick shoulder pads |
| I’m the west coast king |
| I know they mad |
| But fuck 'em… |
| So follow me |
| Heaven my destination |
| I’ll show you that we in-hell like the sess we blazin |
| I’m inspired like my lungs |
| Cemetery off 'em |
| These wack rappers |
| Robitussin couldn’t clear your coffin |
| Your cornea show that you corny |
| I carry California on me |
| You couldn’t |
| Your vertebrae will crack |
| Got you slippin' like a disc in a herniated back |
| Fuckin' with this lost angel |
| Homie I’m far from a saint though |
| So who stoppin' the big bodies |
| I’m coppin' the S class |
| You push little C’s like Junior Mafia |
| So grab your dicks if you love Hip Hop |
| And rub your mothafuckin' titties if you with me |
| This for my city |
| So if you new to this |
| Peep how we do this shit |
| The weak will get eat |
| Cause the streets full of Judases |
| The meek shall inherit |
| Game bodying the rest |
| Been grey but today the sun rises in the west |