The drama started up in Heaven, chilling when the phone rang

It was Saint Peter, he said get the heater

We have new angels, in their eyes I saw sin

They came to the gates and I wouldn't let 'em in

Homeland security's tighter up in Heaven

Ever since 9/11

Anyway, back to the phone call Saint Peter said

Motherfuckers bum rushed me, punched me in the head

Threw up gang signs, couldn't hear what was said

Took the keys, shot me, left me there for dead

Still breathing but bleeding, bullets start to sting

Couldn't fly so I called the hospital of kings

Choir wanna solo, I will never sing

They tried to say the doctors had to amputate my wing

Took a spot, set up shop, selling dust to angels

We work hard for that, get the guns, it's time to tango





Hey you get off my cloud

You don't know me and you don't know my style

Hey you get off my cloud

Try to take Heaven but I gotta give you hell

Hey you get off my cloud

You don't know me and you don't know my style

Hey you get off my cloud

Try to take Heaven but I gotta give you hell





Motherfuckers got me filled with anger

Clouds in Heaven being run by some strangers

Angels wasn't normal, naughty little devils

They said fuck everybody, independent rebels

To prove a point they executed Michael

In broad daylight, then repeated cycle

Murdered Gabriel then said the cloud is ours

You bitches up here, you don't want no war

That's what one said, he had a wife, he beat her

It was clear to me that he was the leader

Rocked a platinum halo with diamonds on it

Pumping a cd, he was rhyming on it

The beats was hot, could've had better timing on it

Anyway, I said that to say this

Selling all that angel dust in Heaven made 'em rich

High rollers, they heated up and got colder

Now selling dope, they got it on smash

Other angels can't cope and they wanna kill they ass

The higher-ups know they making cash, they on the take

Gotta grease they palms, Heaven is political

Movement take muscle when getting physical

Mind over matter on the cloud is getting critical

(Critical) What we gonna do?

What we gonna do?









The leader was arrogant, walked with a swagger

Even when he flew, he did that snotty too

Couldn't take no more, flap wings, got the pistol

Demons think we sloppy, break 'em off proper

Didn't have a vest, too vain, he didn't need that

Shot him in his chest, blew the feathers off his back

That set it off, the war was on

Thought he was a king but he was only a pawn

Crew turned to cowards once their leader was gone

Bullets start to shower, angels start to shiver

Blood start to drip until it made a river

No angel police, this was settled on the streets

Looked the other way, a word they didn't say

Cause they all knew someone's gonna pay

Chase the demons outta here, got back our flow

Keep it moving niggas, we had to let them know







(Word up)

The bottom line is we got it back

Back in business

Something goes down, if a bag is sold I want our cut

I want a cut

I want in on everything