Lyrics to
Hand On My Glock

Released by Fabolous in 2008
From the Album: There Is No Competition |

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This version of Hand On My Glock was released by Fabolous in 2008.

Our Fabolous Songs profile has Hand On My Glock lyrics from 2008 and most if not all of the lyrics by Fabolous that we have here at Decade Lyrics.

Here's more interesting things in songs and lyrics tied to Fabolous or about the 2000s in general.

{“Grizzill…”}

AMG is the machine (uhh) Embassy
C.U.B. (uhh) Come Up Boys!
(L-A-D) (The Aphilliates!)

Nigga I got it got what you need, that coke that heron that speed
That med them purple trees, front and a nigga bleed
I’m good at them evil deeds, it’s normal for me homey
Get the cheese like macaroni, pimpin like Pretty Tony
Famous but you don’t know me young’n remember that
War like a Republican, smooth as a Democrat
Pull a rabbit out my hat like a magician dressed in black
Really a killer dressed in black, killin for them paper stacks
Every since I sold crack, been smooth like Ebenezer
Police, give me amnesia, nigga I know the procedure
I’m sick, no anasthesia can cure, what’s in my genes
Fuck a stash spot, nigga my pistol is in my jeans
I’m a fiend for the flow, I’m a fiend for the dough
I’m a fiend for the feel of me squeezin that calico
AMG, pay attention, Embassy, niggaz listen
I cross the Mason-Dixon just to keep me out of prison motherfucker

Violate me and you will get popped (get popped)
Two-steppin with my hand on my glock, ayy

No! They don’t make ’em like this no mo’
I’m as, real as they come, as fly as they say
As hot as they claim, Willie man I’m hotter than flames
Flyer than planes, I gotta explain, I’m tired of lames
I mean I’m tired of rappers
Niggaz babblin I hire the clappers, fire the ratchets
Yeah, I mean quiet the racket
Bottom line you either got it or lack it and most niggaz lack it
Sing-Sing regime is full metal jacket
So many stripes and medals I need another jacket
Bullet wounds, they barely can patch it
Rap niggaz rather bury the hatchet, whattup my nigga Bump?
Just came home, and he don’t care neither
Fuck around and catch a body like a cheerleader
Yeah, niggaz sweet like a strudel
Petite like a poodle, small like chihuahuas
Devoured all the cowards, money and the power
Niggaz know Willie in the mall a couple hours
Geah, they got me thinkin like Terence Howard
I could be wrong, even though I may be right
Yeah, these niggaz soft like baby wipes
And chicks comin to the crib like it’s Ladies Night
Hehe, and can’t nar’ a nigga see me
I’m Big Dangerous you just a Lil Weezy – Willie!

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It’s L-A-D nigga
WTK nigga
CUB motherfucker


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