Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Hidden Hand , by - Gangrene. Release date: 06.08.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Hidden Hand |
| Digging through the dumpster like a transient |
| Another man down, there go the ambulance |
| Just scrape him off the road |
| Catch me on the stove, cooking and scrambling |
| Your dogs only bark, they just woofing and rambling |
| The Caballero’s canvas |
| I keep shitting like a senior citizen with Pampers |
| Serving 'em like Pete Sampras |
| Over the net with the racket |
| Like I’m Federal Expressin' a package |
| My laboratory’s far from lavish |
| Littered with dutch intestine, and blunt ashes |
| The way I just slip in Electric Slide through the gutter |
| Need rubber the largest |
| Every size and every color |
| Step the fuck back while I’m pushing the limitation |
| Speed demon — a 911 Porsche, horses racing |
| Violate a record like forced penetration |
| My liver is Russian, my lungs is Dutch |
| Team Thorough, my number one and two sons clutch |
| I sit back, eating my lunch, not doing much |
| Cameras I spit in, my hand is hitting |
| Can’t see shit |
| That boy’s gritty on the grizzy |
| Grinding out for the grams, dammit |
| Gamble with God, I’m pulling the cards, the hand’s gambit |
| You get the poker face |
| Unless I’m high up out the atmosphere |
| But it takes a lot to get me there |
| Spark a flare but I can’t calling for help |
| Like Adrian, I’m whooping ass, y’all go and grab me my belt |
| I’ll son you |
| I swear there’s no where to run to |
| When I hunt you, you’re lunch food |
| Now look what it had come to |
| A little violence before we at peace |
| It’s human ways, I call it laws of the streets |
| Capiche? |
| Preach |
| Your mouth in the beef |
| You’re burger-made, I murder them |
| Police knock and ask any questions, I never heard of them |
| I keep that Mary moving |
| Showing improvement, nigga rolling stupid |
| Highly ignorant when his mind is useless |
| You got something to prove? |
| Prove it |
| I’m like the bad teacher to a student |
| That’s white chalking, I’m not talking |
| The only options: live and learn |
| Y’all not of my concern |
| I’m sitting like Big Worm, come get burned |
| Man who did it, my hand is hittin' |