Información de la canción En esta página puedes encontrar la letra de la canción Hand That Rocks The Cradle, artista - Big Stan.
Fecha de emisión: 31.12.2002
Restricciones de edad: 18+
Idioma de la canción: inglés
Hand That Rocks The Cradle |
It’s funny how the trades are |
Errbody wants to be a king |
We have the whole city full of bosses |
But we all know… taking over, the one |
One leader… all the rest y’all follow |
Follow me… cradle… trust me I am the one |
Call me a boss of all bosses |
I got a flawless record of thirty wins, no draws and no losses |
I talk reckless, what |
Move cautious with no respect for the rules, the dudes lawless |
Gets deep with BS on the streets |
cos from Harlem to Hollywood I got the game on the leash |
You with my Bloodline beasts, always ready for whatever |
We gon’hawk this dog together, six or beretta |
Tour is glock, hecno and dutch |
A few tools used just to get to the top |
Can’t stop, won’t stop 'til I’m left in the box to count |
We still bossy but pine is fine |
I’m a Jack of all trades, what moves to be made (yea) |
Back in the eighth for crackin the safe |
From the block to the cage |
From the label to the stage |
I’ma grind 'til I shine, cradle 2 the grave it’s on Can’t touch me (it's on) |
Can’t stop me (it's on) |
Won’t budge me (it's on) |
Can’t block me (it's on) |
The hood loves me (it's on) |
Can’t knock me It’s simply put I’m just ahead of my time |
It’s on Can’t touch me (it's on) |
Can’t stop me (it's on) |
Won’t budge me (it's on) |
Can’t block me (it's on) |
The hood love me (it's on) |
Can’t knock me It must the hand that rocks the cradle is mine |
Now, drug money is a thug’s money (uhn uhn) |
Ice money is set for life money (you know) |
Share money is the fair money, (fa sho) |
You scared money, don’t make money, nigga common |
I’m back in the game, back on the grind |
I’m back with my back to the wall, slightly back to two nines |
Back with the mask on my face, back to packin two nines |
I’m back on the block, back to movin twenties and dimes |
Bottomline, I’m back, the city is mines |
Stop me how, I’m coming with the lot and the lines |
Have grease stinking out where you live |
Cats trailing your kids, it ended up with me abductin your wares |
Harry Rob once told me strike fast and forceful |
cos if you give him any time to think he’ll cross you |
You either on my side or in my way |
If in my way okay |
??? pack my arm, it’s a dom |
You let a nigga get at em' |
Nigga for not one of the most hunted like Bin Laden |
Cos I don’t talk, I spit, don’t walk, I strike |
And I’ma stand up nigga, stand sit for what (what) |
To discuss with the tough that enough is enough |
And it’s on cos I’m callin your bluff |
And your dudes in the streets that refuse to be beef |
Better move when I reach and get moved with the heat |
Please, don’t make the nigga have to do it to you |
I launch missiles that ravage ya soft tissue |
I salvage with many issues |
My marriage is to my pistols |
automatic or revolver |
but trust me I’m gon get you if I have to prooove to you cowards |
I never follow you cowards |
I murder all of you cowards |
Your streets are my streets |
That’s how it’s designed |
cos the hand that rocks the cradle is mine |
you know (yea) |
Instrumentals till fade |