Little lady, your mind you’ve made up
your injurys you can’t hide with make-up
you need some medical advice, you make up
a little lie to say just
in case the doc opens his eyes and don’t decide to play dumb
with any luck you’ll see the same dude who stiched your top lip
last year when your pimp just lost it
he wouldn’t recognise you if you stared him in the face anyway
‘cos all the heroin is making you age
but your a heroin for taking the strain of being a prostitue and
punching bag
the funds you have left go where your from using moneygram
mother had to get you out the motherland to study
that was all she struggled to have a single daughter with the upper
hand
but little does she know your never coming back
she put you in her brother’s hand only for him to formulate another
plan
he’s the fucking cause of your appalling state the summer,
fancy that you came to London to get pimped by your Uncle, damn.
She’s just under the upper hand
goes mad for a couple grams
and she don’t wanna go outside, tonight
‘cos in the pipe she’ll fly to the motherland
and sell love to another man
It’s too cold outside, for angels to fly Now an angel will die,
covered in white
with closed eyes & hoping for a better life
this time,
i will fade out tonight,
straight down the line.
