Listen, little lady This is just the worst way To spend your birthday It's 30 degrees, Thursday You work late, you was with a perv Making dirty fake love in his Mercedes Lady, the word "rape" sums up events That take place every night You wanna get up But you know your legs will ache if you try And you remember that your punter went crazy last night You drag yourself to the mirror To check your face then you cry Forget the visit to the clinic you were booked in for You'll make a trip to the Whittington Where they'll look at your jaw They'll be inquisitive And ask about your business for sure They'll know you're fibbing If you tell them you got hit by a door But young woman, the pimp sees you As nothing but a dumb hooker Medical attention could be fatal Cause the cunt wouldn't Ever let a doctor near someone That's getting dough for him Cause next you got poxy Authorities sticking their noses in
She's just under the upper hand And goes mad for a couple grams And she don't wanna go outside, tonight 'Cause, in a pipe, she'll fly to the motherland And sell love to another man It's too cold outside For angels to fly For angels to fly
Little lady, your mind you've made up Your injuries 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 stitched your top lip Last year when your pimp just lost it He wouldn't recognise you If you stared him in the face anyway 'Cause all the heroin is making you age But you're a heroine for taking the strain Of being a prostitute 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 Little does she know you're never coming back She put you in her brother's hands Only for him to formulate another plan He's the fucking cause of your appalling state, this summer Fancy that, you came to London To get pimped by your uncle, damn
She's just under the upper hand And goes mad for a couple grams And she don't wanna go outside, tonight 'Cause, in a 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 and hoping for a better life This time now, we'll fade out tonight Straight down the line
Little lady, you're trembling with fear Your skinny frame kinda resembles a deer You're sitting facing the detective, oh, dear The meddling nurse couldn't just leave it She's only gone and made it much worse calling police in She'll never know the gravity of the damage she's caused You're causing scandal Going mad in the ward now The cop is trying to calm you Telling you he won't let no one harm you The same question he keeps trying to ask you "Who you working for? " He's talking to you like you're Worth more than a dirty whore You're having a conversation you could be murdered for You're learning more about exactly Why you need to help bring him or her to court He's kicking knowledge you ain't ever heard before Just before he leaves, he reassures you That he knows that it's hard He underlines a mobile number You can phone on his card Begs you to use it He's useless if you're gonna be stupid 'Cause an answer hasn't come from your bruised lips You're on your own You've gotta go and give your pimp what you owe You reach your door and then it dawns That you've been followed home Before you turn around you feel a cold blade on your throat And then a voice says "Where you been, bitch? I wanna know" No prizes for guessing who it is Resistance would be foolishness You open the front door, he boots you in There's something new in him He's silent now, that fills you with terror Get your alibi straight, you could be killed for an error He towers over you, the six-inch knife catches the sunlight At this point, your life flashes before your eyes Your handbag's dropped And all the contents are all over the floor Despite the mess there's only one thing That has caught his eye And in the moment of rage He brutally murders his niece And dumps her body in the boot of his Mercs in the street Little lady left this earth in the worst way All because she got a card on her thirteenth birthday
And we're all under the upper hand And going mad for a couple grams And we don't wanna go outside, tonight 'Cause, in a pipe, she'll fly to the motherland And sell love to another man It's too cold outside For angels to fly For angels to fly And fly, fly For angels to fly To fly, to fly And angels to die
Compositores: Edward Christopher Sheeran (PRS), Ikpaema Smith Uzomba (Justin Smith Ikpaema Uzomba) (PRS)Editores: Rinsin Music (PRS), Sony ATV Music Publishing Limited (PRS), Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLCPublicado em 2019 (28/Jun)ECAD verificado obra #5994168 e fonograma #19269716 em 25/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM