Search results for knockin on heavens door by guns n roses

We've found 31 lyrics, 40 artists, and 100 albums matching knockin on heavens door by guns n roses:



little rock star, man she knows it
My baby's Guns N' Roses

She's got a wild side
That troubles in her blood
Thinks I'm an outlaw
That's double trouble son
My baby's Guns N' Roses. 

Ya She's dancin' with the devil,
in the cold november rain. 
When she's knockin on heavens door, son,
you bet God'll call
dancin' with the devil
In the cold November rain
But when shes knockin' on heavens door son
You can bet God will call her name

She ain't into Wine
thing goes, boy,
Give me some more.
She's my little rock star, man she knows it.
My baby's Guns N' Roses.

She's got a wild side.
Bet trouble's in
Guns'N'Roses

Rock 'n' rollin', rock 'n' rollin'
Floor so cold that's why I'm so frozen
Rock 'n' rollin', rock 'n' rollin'
I'm a'Rolling Stone with my
violence was brung
Regulated and balanced the slums
Brought in a cat with a talent for guns
Click quick to silence a Dunn
Convoys of black limos
Employs
man it might be a rat
Damn n****z switchin' sides on n****z just like that
You know me, I stay wit a b**** on her knees
And get guns away in the hood
is war
Yeah n****, uh, yeah n****
Yeah n****, uh, yeah n****, uh
Yeah n****

Bust my gun all by myself
Rock cocaine all by myself
Poured propane all
under a scope, and an infrared beam

Rifle bullet threw my throat, chokin', hit tha flo'

Gunpowder in my mouth, knockin' heavens door

Street life done
under a scope, and an infrared beam

Rifle bullet threw my throat, chokin', hit tha flo'

Gunpowder in my mouth, knockin' heavens door

Street life done
Uh, uh, uh, huh
Clipse
(Clipse)
Exclusive shit
(Exclusive shit)
Yeah, who

Guns n' roses mafia proses
Briefcase money, hot cars, and hot clothes
This
down
Oh.. my headphone fell off.. damn..)

[Killah Priest]
Death come to those who oppose
Knockin' at the door, holding a rose
In plain clothes,
soon
See the situation we sophisticated goons
I know you live by the gun then you die by it too
N****s call me prophecy, swagging and philosophies
that, but it's all words 
Words can kill more pens, than guns, and friends 
and foes, God knows, I chose the pros 
that rose, still froze-n, chose-n
get your hands up
Police at my door, knockin'
Beggin' me for more, drop it
Excuse me Mr. Officer,
But what more can your offer her?

Nigga I ain't
let's go
Styles
Mafia boss, rockin' the corpse
Styles
Pullin the three, cockin the four
Styles
We're closin' the windows and lockin' the doors
You
down
Oh.. my headphone fell off.. damn..)

[Killah Priest]
Death come to those who oppose
Knockin' at the door, holding a rose
In plain clothes,
God said don't give me your
Tin horn prayers
Don't buy roses off the street down there
Took it all and took the dirt road home
Dreaming of Jenny with
Mother and Father, both proud of the daughter
That heaven had sent them, Feleena was this baby's name.

When she was seventeen, bothered by crazy dreams
jockin'(jockin') even though they guns be knockin'
Got to block it, throw my hands up and we dip it up and brawl
Talking all that nonsense, not being heard by me
so my soul 
is a threat to all mankind. Born to kill, I'm wicked by nature, 'cause the streets of my neighborhood breed young hellraisers. A 
30.06
' at your door
Your revolver took down many of '90's lords
Cut to that ad campaign, your gun stores
So they welcome your floor of a tribe called cocoa
I drive away from your house, chasin' butterflies out
Girl, I don't know how you do it

I said "Girl, you're beautiful, 'n' you already know it,
But
they guns be knockin'/
Gonna block it, throw my hands up
And we dip it up and brawl/ Talkin' all that nonsense, not bein' heard by me at
All/ Nigga in
the bitch I am, payed it no mind
Gave niggaz that then hoped in the ride
Pulled out the heat from under the seat
Make sure the doors locked and the guns