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c.dro - hands up! lyrics
[intro]
get your love
when i’m gone
who gets your love?
[verse 1]
let my music circulate
amongst kids on the curb that wait
for better days, but feel they never come
now they’re returning late
better late than never though
that’s what i say
endeavors at this early stage on earth
they probably keep me out the pearly gates
but i ain’t one who judge
sh-t i just cop the .38
in case a traffic violation turns into a murder case
i ain’t one to budge
if they want to separate my soul from face
i be forced to break ’em off like the church and state
with just a little piece
and i read a press-release, that said the riots are motivated by caprice
and i wanna free their minds from all the grief
and rid them of their sorrows like all the trees and all the leaves
and that’s not being poetic, i’m tryna be prophetic
the worst is yet to come
yeah i said it and i meant it
i’m headed towards a dead-end, all my homies bald-headed
i owe this to my fans and to y’all i am indebted
[hook]
hands up don’t shoot
i murder instrumentals, whether pen or pencil that’s just some sh-t that i do
hands up don’t shoot
and they can trap my body but my mind remains alive in this booth, in this booth
hands up don’t shoot
the type to swallow my blood before i swallow my pride
hands up don’t shoot
i feel for you n-ggas gettin’ shot while i’m saying this rhyme
[verse 2]
and don’t you panic, this man is manic
effected by hateful fanatics
who wanna erase my trace from this planet
like the scientists who study eugenics
or like the comet when it struck the atlantic
and as the life-forms vanished
the ice showed granite
not wise not savage
i’m an emcee
i let my mic go damage
you micromanaged
d-ck sucking trifle hoe f-ggots
i wish they made a f-ckin’ feature to dislike your status
you ain’t a crook son
you just a facebook on a book worm
to try to look gangsta’ but he look dumb
long beach to brooklyn
concrete corruption
come rock with young c.dro, my family dysfunction
drama house
going from poverty to sovereignty
tryna make it rich without the sacrificial offering
so all this tough talk, that sh-t doesn’t bother me
thinking about the future masterminding like im socrates
[hook]
hands up don’t shoot
i murder instrumentals, whether pen or pencil that’s just some sh-t that i do
hands up don’t shoot
and they can trap my body but my mind remains alive in this booth, in this booth
hands up don’t shoot
the type to swallow my blood before i swallow my pride
hands up don’t shoot
i feel for you n-ggas gettin’ shot while i’m saying this rhyme
[verse 3]
i swear i hate good byes
i see you later for the second time
a bunch of saints upon the sacred shrine
for my brother who’s up in the doc
locked up inside a federal prison
so i paid him a visit
and i
spoke with him through a window hole
i said a year has gone by d-mn you’re beard has grown
and mom sends her regards to her dearest son
then he responds, yo by night man i can hear your songs
just remember you’re a king and not a jackal
see these guards are like hyenas
i can hear them when they cackle
they love to see you beaner in some shackles
over black, over anglo, a samoan, or a cambo
they systemize the d-mn poor
and got us hustling under lamp posts
say where we can and can’t go
so on your scramble for the lambo
serve as an example
yeah paint your pictures like your van gogh
pump your brakes like some amco
[hook]
hands up don’t shoot
i murder instrumentals, whether pen or pencil that’s just some sh-t that i do
hands up don’t shoot
and they can trap my body but my mind remains alive in this booth, in this booth
hands up don’t shoot
the type to swallow my blood before i swallow my pride
hands up don’t shoot
i feel for you n-ggas gettin’ shot while i’m saying this rhyme
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