Texty:
B3 You Re My Angel

(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

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

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

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

bout to hoarse coward, as soon as I buss, pause You put your hands on a broad and telling me you can brawl You thought you saw me when you saw Saw, frightening

I 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

Street Science, you're on the air, ?Static? What do you feel when you hear a record like Tupac's new one? Static I love Tupac's new record, ?Static? Right

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to my strap Broads is watchin me they wanna leech to my trap Tha Jesus Christ on my neck reach to my lap I teach you to rap in my Sunday School These