Hammerdance Lyrics - Welcome To: Our House - Slaughterhouse

(You are now listening to Arabmuzik) 

(Slaughterhouse!) My real name, my rap shit 

No made up nigga, I'm straight up, nigga 

Still in the projects where I came up, nigga 

On a scaffold doing ten sets of ten, getting my weight up nigga! 

I'm no shooter, but my shooters'll have your brain exposed 

But I'll shoot five in a second, homie, and break your nose 

Talking past, I'm dead ass, I was living life fast with my pistol in the grass 

Digging in my ass tryna finish up the last so I can sit it in a stash 

Old E. sweat dripping from the bag 

Milk crates sitting on the Ave. 

While I'm looking left and right for them niggas with the badge 

My mom's dishes really had crack on 'em 

12 12's and I kept that shit packed for 'em, yeah they came back for 'em 

I can paint it so vivid cause I really lived it 

If rap fail, I stack bail, and show you how to get it! 

I'm in the club, bottle in my hand doing my two step 

While I got my gun in my pants call it the hammer dance 

Uh, bitches dancing on a nigga when they feel the gun 

I tell 'em we doing the hammer dance 

Uh, two steppin' with my weapon on me 

You good? I'm just checking, homie 

Uh, fam-a-lam, you don't stand a chance 

While I got this gun in my pants doing my hammer dance 

In these LA times, I wake up on one 

House slippers and coffee, I know the paper gon' come 

I drop shit that make the gangstas go dumb 

Keep a bad bitch naked like my waist with no gun 

Uh, I'm for real, how are you? 

Got street power, from the Watts Towers to Howard U 

How would you become me? I don't do what you cowards do 

Flip a thousand pounds of that sour diez' in a hour dude 

I'm out my muh'fuckin' mind 

Fuck a punchline, salute my muh'fuckin' grind 

Ditching feds on the regular, they're trying to catch a predator 

Not the Chris Hansen type, but the Danny Glover kind I'm a killer, 

Everybody know I body your audio 

When a shotty blow, say goodbye to your barrio, you maricon 

You don't think that I'm about this 

Ice grill, nigga, put your money where your mouth is 

I'm in the club, bottle in my hand doing my two step 

While I got my gun in my pants call it the hammer dance 

Uh, bitches dancing on a nigga when they feel the gun 

I tell 'em we doing the hammer dance 

Uh, two steppin' with my weapon on me 

You good? I'm just checking, homie 

Uh, fam-a-lam, you don't stand a chance 

While I got this gun in my pants doing my hammer dance 

My real name, my rap shit 

Fuck with Chase, but the real bank is the mattress 

Money ain't new to me, been getting G-stacks 

Since Smoove B took his shawty back from rehab 

Knife work with me, but the chrome is extra 

Case I'm in the same taxi as the bone collector uh! 

Y'all rappin' 'bout models, I get hounded by 'em 

Not a killer at all, I'm just surrounded by 'em 

Just a real nigga, straight from my mother's stomach 

Ain't enough cloth for all of us to be cut from it 

Not decided by who toast led 

Cause all of us would be angels for Pujols' bread 

Lot of hostility, hollering is killing me 

Screaming "Over my dead body," like it's not a possibility 

On my Jers' bullshit, never mind me 

But if it's ever problems, niggas know where to find me 

I'm in the club, bottle in my hand doing my two step 

While I got my gun in my pants call it the hammer dance 

Uh, bitches dancing on a nigga when they feel the gun 

I tell 'em we doing the hammer dance 

Uh, two steppin' with my weapon on me 

You good? I'm just checking, homie 

Uh, fam-a-lam, you don't stand a chance 

While I got this gun in my pants doing my hammer dance