Hand That Rocks The Cradle - Big Stan

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