[Hook x2] I got these angels on my shoulder I got these angels on my shoulder I got these angels on my shoulder But these demons keep on talking and they're trying to win me over
[Verse 1] See, I wake up with the voice in my head that says God's watching Studied scriptures and even skimmed through Allah's doctrine Minutes later I'm thinking of killing haters And ways to bring in some paper so having faith is a hard option My moms told me that praying will get me far in life And anytime it gets hectic just give your heart to Christ But I don't know if the Lord can help my bars get tight Or make the fans think I'm a star that's nice, I'm an artist writing Real shit, real feelings, angels in my ear Like, "Do better, be better, pick a new career Maybe teacher, preacher, counselor, physicist, engineer Someone doing things with meaning for people" but then I hear These demons with the horns like, "Rap, rhyme, spit it Do a song with a dance, talk about the slutty bitches Put half-naked chicks in the video, pour liquor On they asses throw some stacks at the camera and yell, 'nigga, nigga, nigga I'm ill, I'm getting it, fuck school' Sell drugs, get a buzz, rock some shiny fake jewels" But the angels come back screaming, "Make smart cool Put depth in your music, reach the youngest, dumbest fools While you kill it over beats and they sleeping, you break the rules And have them thinking while they smoking and drinking and gripping tools" And I choose the darkside Sort of like Tre and Doughboy in that car ride And then I shout "Dough let me out!" knowing that this is wrong I'm conflicted in my life and in my songs Y'all don't hear me, I'm knowing that this is wrong I'm conflicted in my life and in my songs
[Hook x2]
[Verse 2] Got me thinking bank robbery, Obama I need change I envision car jacking this old man in the Range Angels: "Work hard at your craft and deal with the pain Everyday ain't always sunny, you want to just make it rain" Demons: "Sha look at how long you been in the game Ain't nobody trying to hear what you yapping, you sound lame You ain't shooting, you ain't selling, you ain't balling you're the same Dude rapping about your raps in your raps, then you complain" Damn, but the angels start to whisper "Wife up a queen," then the demons tell me dis her The soldiers with the wings say lift brothers and sisters But the creatures with the tails say get money consistent Angels say, "God's son showed you the path" Demons say, "The savior was hated until he passed Sha you was born broke, parents called you accident Jesus got gold and a holiday named after him" Angels want me Christian or Catholic with wife and kids Demons want me flipping bricks, getting clapped, or doing a bid Angels: "Forget the whores and the groupies, the music biz" Demons: "Thinking small, you'll never be Pac or Big stupid"
Put these awesome lyrics on your blog, profile or website!
Link - Websites & Blogs:
Copy to Clipboard:
COPY LINK
Embed - Websites & Blogs:
Copy to Clipboard: [Hook x2] I got these angels on my shoulder I got these angels on my shoulder I got these angels on my shoulder But these demons keep on talking and they're trying to win me over
[Verse 1] See, I wake up with the voice in my head that says God's watching Studied scriptures and even skimmed through Allah's doctrine Minutes later I'm thinking of killing haters And ways to bring in some paper so having faith is a hard option My moms told me that praying will get me far in life And anytime it gets hectic just give your heart to Christ But I don't know if the Lord can help my bars get tight Or make the fans think I'm a star that's nice, I'm an artist writing Real shit, real feelings, angels in my ear Like, "Do better, be better, pick a new career Maybe teacher, preacher, counselor, physicist, engineer Someone doing things with meaning for people" but then I hear These demons with the horns like, "Rap, rhyme, spit it Do a song with a dance, talk about the slutty bitches Put half-naked chicks in the video, pour liquor On they asses throw some stacks at the camera and yell, 'nigga, nigga, nigga I'm ill, I'm getting it, fuck school' Sell drugs, get a buzz, rock some shiny fake jewels" But the angels come back screaming, "Make smart cool Put depth in your music, reach the youngest, dumbest fools While you kill it over beats and they sleeping, you break the rules And have them thinking while they smoking and drinking and gripping tools" And I choose the darkside Sort of like Tre and Doughboy in that car ride And then I shout "Dough let me out!" knowing that this is wrong I'm conflicted in my life and in my songs Y'all don't hear me, I'm knowing that this is wrong I'm conflicted in my life and in my songs
[Hook x2]
[Verse 2] Got me thinking bank robbery, Obama I need change I envision car jacking this old man in the Range Angels: "Work hard at your craft and deal with the pain Everyday ain't always sunny, you want to just make it rain" Demons: "Sha look at how long you been in the game Ain't nobody trying to hear what you yapping, you sound lame You ain't shooting, you ain't selling, you ain't balling you're the same Dude rapping about your raps in your raps, then you complain" Damn, but the angels start to whisper "Wife up a queen," then the demons tell me dis her The soldiers with the wings say lift brothers and sisters But the creatures with the tails say get money consistent Angels say, "God's son showed you the path" Demons say, "The savior was hated until he passed Sha you was born broke, parents called you accident Jesus got gold and a holiday named after him" Angels want me Christian or Catholic with wife and kids Demons want me flipping bricks, getting clapped, or doing a bid Angels: "Forget the whores and the groupies, the music biz" Demons: "Thinking small, you'll never be Pac or Big stupid"
NEW LYRICS 
