[Intro: 40 Glocc]
Big Bash
4-O
Hahahaha
Sam Scarfo
Yea!
Infa, Infa, Infamous
Up in this, yea
Infa-infa, Infamous
Up in this

[Verse 1: 40 Glocc]
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
As a matter of fact, it's past your curfew
You dealin' with grown men, these hands'll hurt you
For crumbs off my table, the homie'll murk you
Your life was adopted, you could say I birthed you
The nail in the coffin, straight to your torso
**2 gun shots sound effect**
Ain't you dead yet?
I knew he had bitch in him the day we first met
Pussy's bleedin', I gave him a cold test
Hit his ass up
N***a, this cold grip
I'm already gone, off a half a stick
I created your life and this the thanks I get?
My chain and my neck represent the set
Yellin' Guerilla Unit, cuzz, beatin' my chest
Feelin' hella buzzed, off of liquor and blunts
Treatin' ey'day 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
[Chorus: Sam Scarfo]
Uh
You ain't really that deep
You ain't bangin' no heat
You don't really want beef, where them hammers at?
Blaow, blaow, blaow, where them hammers at?
Blaow, blaow, blaow, where them hammers at?
Calico, MAC-10, AK, ery'day, shorty whop, 40 Glocc, homie, what you gotta say?
It's on, n***a, where them hammers at?
Blaow, blaow, blaow, where them hammers at?

[Verse 2: 40 Glocc]
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 head piece to get on your nerves
Drink liquor till I'm pissy, I must concur
Dump till the clip empty, watch the outcome occur
Treatin' 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 Deee
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, n***as, 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
[Chorus: Sam Scarfo]
Uh-huh
You ain't really that deep
You ain't bangin' no heat
You don't really want beef, where them hammers at?
Blaow, blaow, blaow, where them hammers at?
Blaow, blaow, blaow, where them hammers at?
Calico, MAC-10, AK, ery'day, shorty whop, 40 Glocc, homie, what you gotta say?
It's on, n***a, where them hammers at?
Blaow, blaow, blaow, where them hammers at?