40 Glocc - Where Them Hammers At Lyrics

Big Bash
4-O
Sam Scarfo
Infa, infa
Infamous
Up in this bitch
Infa-infa
Infamous
Up in this

(Verse 1)
I'm the king of the coast, I'm a rider for real
Dickies, T-shirts, that's my deal
Keep my peripheral in my rearview
Step in the club
And do that one-two
Infamous G's
Do what they want to
Move in a unit
Like we 'posed to
Watch ya step
Don't get too close, fools
Matter of fact
It's past your curfew
You dealin' with grown men, these hands'll hurt you
With crumbs off of my table, my homey'll murk you
Your life was adopted, you could say, I'll birth you
The nail in the coffin
Straight to your torso
BLIP-BLIP-BLOW
Ain't you dead yet?
I knew he had bitch in them the day we first met
Pussy was bleeding
I gave him a cold test
Hit his ass up
Nigga, this cold grip
I'm already gone
Over half a state
I created ya life
And this the thanks I get?
My chain and my neck represent the set
Yellin' Guerilla Unit, cuz
Beating my chest
Feelin' hella buzzed, off of liquor and blunts
Treating everyday like the first of the month
With a pocket full of stones, still served in a cup
And a fitted twenty pack, right hand on my gun
Uh

Chorus:
You ain't really that deep
You ain't bangin' no heat
You don't really want beef, where them hammers at
BLAO, BLAO, BLAO!
Where them hammers at
BLAO, BLAO, BLAO!
Where them hammers at
Calico, mack 10, A.K., everything
Shorty whop, 40 Glocc
Homey, what you gotta say?
It's on, nigga
Where them hammers at
BLAO, BLAO, BLAO!
Where them hammers at

(Verse 2)
I moved out the hood
Straight to the 'burbs
Keep my ear to the street like I sleep on the curb
Put my feet to your hair piece to get on your nerves
Drink liquor til I'm pissy
I must concur
Dump til the clip empty, watch the outcome occur
Treating trouble like pussy divin in, head first
I fill that boy up from the head on down
Turn a crooked-ass frown
Upside down
Keep heat in my pants
Like a STD
Ridin' shotgun in V.I.P., SUV
I'm S-U-P
R-E-M-E
Do a driveby in daylight like big Tray Dee
When I yell out, "Peace"
I want a piece of the pie
Or I'm a use the doo-wap to knock a piece at ya thigh
It's hard to stay alive, niggas, easy to die
Now analyze my life and try to walk in my nights
Let's see how many bullets, you could die tonight
If I die tonight
I'll be remembered
For them throw-away burners with no serial numbers
I'm a felon, homeboy
No registered pistols
If you running from me, homie
That lead'll get you

Repeat Chorus
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