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Little Lady (feat. Mikill Pane)

Ed Sheeran

No. 5 Collaborations Project


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, Ikpaema Smith Uzomba (Justin Smith Ikpaema Uzomba)
ECAD: Obra #5994168 Fonograma #19269716

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