Cock The Hammer
Cypress Hill · Black Sunday
On a chicken-hunt, huntin' for a chicken
Get paranoid when you hear my Glock clickin'
Speakin' to the punk that's tweakin'
With the bitch-ass styles I hit you like Deacon
Jones house, cough without the bones
I rolled ya up and smoked you like cones
Split the seed and grow you like clones
Don't start-me-up, cause I'm not the Rolling Stones
But I get stoned with a little help from my friends
With the (gubla), then I passed it round back to me again
I can make you famous like Amos
Same as the last punk, when I stuck the gatt up his anus
Hear me growl: Grrra! Howl!
I got the night vision just like the wise old owl
I'm comin' ta fetch ya
Yeah home direct ya
Bury them bones
Under my home and
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Take my weapon, step into a whole new realm
And step back, as I take up the helm
On the pirate ship I'm steerin'
Droppin' the geran
Just realize what you're hearin'
The cannon sounded
That's my companion: surrounded
As my crew comes bounding
As the captain
Afro-america
Whole lotta gattin'
With the loc'ed out latin
Busted!
You're a red beard with a musket
Better talk quick 'cause ya might get dusted
Your gatt looks rusted, disgusted
Oh look away, look away boy as I rush it
Yes I know that you can't withstand it
Watch that ass cause punk I'll brand it
With a steel-toe, how you feel now
When my boot stuck in that ass like a dildo
Cry on a pillow, weeper that's willow
The Hill got the skill for the static like brillo
Hmmm, what you talkin' `bout punk
Gimme room as I light up the boom
Cock the hammer, wave the white banner
Ever heard a Glock go `click' like a camera?
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Get paranoid when you hear my Glock clickin'
Speakin' to the punk that's tweakin'
With the bitch-ass styles I hit you like Deacon
Jones house, cough without the bones
I rolled ya up and smoked you like cones
Split the seed and grow you like clones
Don't start-me-up, cause I'm not the Rolling Stones
But I get stoned with a little help from my friends
With the (gubla), then I passed it round back to me again
I can make you famous like Amos
Same as the last punk, when I stuck the gatt up his anus
Hear me growl: Grrra! Howl!
I got the night vision just like the wise old owl
I'm comin' ta fetch ya
Yeah home direct ya
Bury them bones
Under my home and
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Take my weapon, step into a whole new realm
And step back, as I take up the helm
On the pirate ship I'm steerin'
Droppin' the geran
Just realize what you're hearin'
The cannon sounded
That's my companion: surrounded
As my crew comes bounding
As the captain
Afro-america
Whole lotta gattin'
With the loc'ed out latin
Busted!
You're a red beard with a musket
Better talk quick 'cause ya might get dusted
Your gatt looks rusted, disgusted
Oh look away, look away boy as I rush it
Yes I know that you can't withstand it
Watch that ass cause punk I'll brand it
With a steel-toe, how you feel now
When my boot stuck in that ass like a dildo
Cry on a pillow, weeper that's willow
The Hill got the skill for the static like brillo
Hmmm, what you talkin' `bout punk
Gimme room as I light up the boom
Cock the hammer, wave the white banner
Ever heard a Glock go `click' like a camera?
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock The Hammer
Released on Cypress Hill's 1993 album Black Sunday, 'Cock The Hammer' stands as a defining track of the West Coast hip-hop boom bap era. The song features the group's signature blend of gritty storytelling and heavy, rhythmic drum programming, characteristic of their work during the mid-90s. Produced by DJ Muggs, the recording captures the raw energy and street-level perspective that became central to the group's identity. It showcases the collaboration between Cypress Hill and the late rapper Big L, whose verse delivers a sharp, memorable flow that complements the track's aggressive tone. The song remains a staple of the group's discography, reflecting the cultural impact of West Coast rap in the early 1990s.