Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Hidden Hand, artist - Cuban Link. Date of issue: 16.01.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Hidden Hand |
| Yo, I was a wild adolescent, blessed with the foul essence |
| Messin' around with the wrong crowd, I learned my lesson |
| Stressin' all the things that I have not |
| I pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot |
| I hear mad shots, homicide come and play Matlock |
| But never crack the case cause the defendant’s a bad cop |
| You feel me fam? |
| The devil’s got a plan |
| That’s why Farrakhan formed the Million Man up in Washington |
| The Hidden Hand even planned this man |
| Have me goin' hand to hand, killin' my own clan |
| But now I understand and see the big picture |
| Fuck cryin' about the struggle, I teach you how to get richer |
| Shit is a hassle in this rotten apple, kids robbin' coppin' capsules |
| Rockin' tattoos, boppin' with ankles locked in shackles |
| Got the cops joggin' at you, spittin' rounds of clips, they down wit it |
| New clowns’ll make you feel as if the Bill of Rights is counterfeit |
| Now it’s been written that all men are equal, but then it’s legal |
| When they beat us and treat us as if we’re different people |
| We go for delf, fuck the cop’s health |
| I’d rather drop shelf and let off shots until my Glock melts |
| Cause God dealt us a helpless hand, they made us sell this land |
| So the palest man could build a selfish plan |
| You know we can’t trust the government, cause Uncle Sam is smugglin' |
| Drugs for us to hustle all the stuff for him |
| Even McGruff is in it, gettin' a percentage |
| Takin' advantage, punishin' just blacks and hispanics |
| My heart is cold as ice, so I know I’m sheist, Big Pun was the kid |
| That no one liked, my whole life, is one big roll of the dice |
| Payin' a price twice as expensive as white kids |
| Destined for Rikers not knowin' my existence was priceless |
| It’s like this, my soul was lifeless, I earned stripes |
| Fightin the nicest in the crisis I slice 'em in half and make 'em dash |
| Like hyphens, invitin' any rapper to Clash With the Titan |
| The writing’s like fighting cause rappers be biting like Tyson |
| I’m hypin' the crowd, keepin' 'em Loud like my label |
| I’m proud I’m able to lift from the bowels of the ghetto |
| I found me a little sanity inside a career and a family |
| No more wars and renderin tears to insanity |
| So keep the salary and tear the mic, cause I love it |
| There’s my life, you judge it, fuck it Seis, I don’t want it |
| I’m a Dominican, stranded in New York like Gilligan |
| Don’t wanna get locked up in the pen' again |
| But here they come, the faggots and cuffs, searchin' for guns |
| Turnin' they ride on the side of the curb to see who runs |
| They authorize the beast to walk the streets holdin' heat |
| Four deep, we puff production, my cheek, you know my steez |
| Fuck the police, usin' «probable cause» to break laws |
| Behind the badge you try to cover up your racial war |
| I got somethin' for you boys in blue |
| The system poisoned you, blew your cover, now what you supposed to do? |
| I never let the faggot pull the trig first |
| It won’t be no American flag over my hearse |
| What’s worse, you know they disperse for bucks |
| So take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks |
| This dude, he had the darkest pads |
| Who dressed up in the heart of brash |
| Forever talkin' trash |
| How he stacked niggas to almanac |
| Gunshots to corner four police informants |
| Stood like he modeled the latest fashions, sidewalk sideshow performance |
| He raised to pull a graceful razor, blew his face |
| Four is commissary plus a pack of da-dun-da-duns laced with toothpaste |
| Life ain’t to be gambled son, you could get trampled |
| By people that act more like animals than mammals high off enamel |
| That’s what his poppa said whose locked for droppin' Ahmed |
| In the candy store robbery probably to get his veins fed |
| He ain’t listen, he became a braindead cocaine head |
| Older Mexicans knew, they killed him eatin' bacalaitos |
| But hey little kids, don’t follow these dopes |
| What? |
| Uh-huh, yea I can dig that |
| They call me Prospect, I just came back from New Paltz |
| Had this track on pause, now I’m back on course |
| It’s lost on the Ave, tryin' to take my life from the past |
| Get this legal cash, look what I done grabbed without dad |
| Kinda sad how he got dragged down to negativity |
| Only if he had one love, trust for liberty |
| This world would be a better place, get what it takes |
| In a race to racism replace the snake in 'em |
| Bad ones, want to spend lives and discriminate |
| I’m tryin' to keep this positive vibe, and from that |
| I generate to the top, like Puffy won’t stop |
| I’m mature now, with one knot, from tryin' to get locked |
| And to the shorties on the block, tryin' to twist 40 tops |
| Get your act together, do some carpentry with a Black n Decker |
| And stop speedin' like a Kawasaki |
| From my life to your life I’m touchin' everybody Twinz watch me |
| Everything we speak is the truth |
| From Prospect to Munroe, here in a hot second |
| The whole world run know, everything we speak is the truth |
| Terror Squad |