Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cake, artist - Pete Rock. Album song Petestrumentals, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 09.05.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Bbe
Song language: English
Cake |
| I’m all about making it happen, kid, instead of yappin' |
| The cheddar stack, cat, I get it crackin', bringin' the action |
| Center of attraction |
| Late night on the creep trashin' |
| Mashin' the party crashin' |
| Rap with a passion |
| Not a quitter or a forfeiter |
| One of them raw rap cats with hollow point rhymes comin to hit ya |
| I’m targeting my shot at all them fake rappers |
| Them fake wannabe gun clappin' cats claimin' they the baddest |
| Claimin' that they ran the streets ragged |
| Knowin they chillin hard in the Village up in the gay bar talkin' to faggots |
| I’m not a gangsta, and I’m not a thug nor a Blood or a Crip |
| Strugglin' brotha tryin to hard to get rich |
| I’ve been nice in this hip hop shit from way back when |
| Days of The Jeffersons, Good Times to What’s Happening! |
| You niggas want beef? |
| Then call my name out |
| Still rockin' the Mecca and the Soul Brother like it just came out |
| Let’s get it on, Lebanon, strong as an ox |
| And I spit flows blowin' up yo' audio box |
| Document my style, cool when I rock |
| And I rush like the bus followin' my blocks |
| G’s up, I’m on the set, y’all niggas freeze up |
| I make dirty dollars, turn 'em in to clean bucks |
| My stocks rise, it’s cool, it’s no surprise |
| And them laws, the rules you make, I straight defy |
| Rebel in the highest form, the fifth born |
| Gully nigga on the track screamin' «It's on» |
| Stop the DAT, rewind that |
| Thoughts, combine that |
| Criminal minds and rhymes, underline that |
| Dollar dollar, street scholar, flow then ya follow |
| Expert, puttin' in work for the next saga |
| So yo, get your lean on |
| Flows you fiend on |
| Fuckin' with U. and N., the 2000 phenom |
| Yeah, U. and N. sound greater than great |
| Still though, holdin' my gizza knot, my name hold weight |
| And you can bet your bottom dollar money mo' I make |
| Let’s get this cake |
| Son do what it takes |
| Yeah, U. and N. sound greater than great |
| Still though, holdin' my gizza knot, my name hold weight |
| And you can bet your bottom dollar money mo' I make |
| Let’s get this cake, c’mon |
| Hold up… pause for the cause, you know |
| You could call it telephone love tap |
| High explosive experiment |
| Situate a press up, bless up |
| What’s up with you? |
| What you talkin'? |
| Pocket fill when it feel |
| Yeah, it’s good, like you should |
| I’m Dino, begs no pardon |
| Borrow no lending, begs no friends |
| Ya hear me, all my mens love women, raw |
| Links with mami Cuban or takes me back to Union |
| Baby girl got cousins and now one of 'em frontin |
| U.N. check her flagging me down faster than sound |
| How we quick to pick me up in that Lex iced edition |
| State your position, back jabbin this bone wishin |
| Miss don’t have me went missing |
| Put in everything, Dwight Gooden-nuff talk |
| You can have a ball and go walk |
| Hear me now, feel me later |
| Later, Dino Brave’s smooth and then paid |
| Feelin' this chick up, keepin' the stick up |
| Fire for candlestick and trick a wick up |
| A verbal contract with life was put out on you |
| Now the harsh facts circle your world at |
| Allah you like a wise author |
| Sci-fi writings and novels |
| Sliding over potholes |
| Play King Arthur inside my brothel |
| The size of waffles gunshot holes |
| Blowing like the U. S Marshal or Louis Armstrong |
| I knew when the fog’s gone, ya spotted |
| And at the same time ya shot at |
| Frollic with raps and fiber optics |
| Like 4,5,6, hard to get at |
| Sharp as an axe |
| Order jockage |
| Harm a trizzack, try and be modest |
| Fiery thoughts burn like L’s of chronic |
| Make your lungs black, sip gold hell in a bottle |
| Blow L n' send him a hollow, that’s on the house |
| Compliments on my corner morale, how I get down |
| Chase his ass round like cat and mouse |
| You feel my passion? |
| Fuck life if I ain’t mackin' |
| Niggas wanna see me stagnant |
| Similar to two magnets |
| We can never be a package |
| A printed jewel up, show my crew love |
| Before this rap shit, who could fool us? |
| Beautiful lust |
| Don’t think I’m too cool to bust |
| Loot and do drugs |
| Who’s who? |
| Few knew it was fool-proof |
| But true it was, crime organizer |
| Forty-fiver |
| Hit your Porsche up, fuck you in lava |
| Hit them to my product |
| Just a taste was life threatenin |
| Stretch his limbs out to five separate ends |
| Pray on my fall and every sense |
| Like I don’t know it |
| I hold Macs posing in flicks like DeNiro in Ronin |
| Yeah, U. and N. sound greater than great |
| Still though, holdin' my gizza knot, my name hold weight |
| And you can bet your bottom dollar money mo' I make |
| Let’s get this cake |
| Son do what it takes |
| Yeah, U. and N. sound greater than great |
| Still though, holdin' my gizza knot, my name hold weight |
| And you can bet your bottom dollar money mo' I make |
| Let’s get this cake |