| Alright, Mr. Thanksgiving, this for the money this time
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| Yeah
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| Drama
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| Howdy-do, motherfuckers, it’s Weezy Baby
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| Niggas bitchin' and I gotta tote the (Cannon)
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| Haha, listen close, I got duct tape and rope
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| I leave you missing like the fucking O’Bannons
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| One hand on my money, one hand on my buddy
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| That’s the AK-47, make his neighborhood love me
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| Bullets like birds, you can hear them bitches humming
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| Don’t make that bird shit, he got a weak stomach
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| Niggas know I’m sick, I don’t spit, I vomit, got it?
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| One egg short of the omelet
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| Simon says, «Shoot a nigga in his thigh and leg
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| And tell him, 'Catch up,' like mayonnaise,» um…
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| I’m the sickest nigga doing it, bet that, baby
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| These other niggas dope, I’m wet crack, baby, yes!
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| Get back, get back, boy, this a setback
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| Clumsy-ass niggas slip and fall into a deathtrap
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| Them boys pussy, born without a backbone
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| And if you strapped, we can trade like the Dow Jones
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| Wet 'em up, I hope he got his towel on
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| I aim at the moon and get my howl on
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| Some niggas cry wolf, I’m on that dry kush
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| And when it comes to that paper, I stack books, ha
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| You heard what I said
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| I can put you on your feet or put some money on your head
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| Life ain’t cheap, you better off dead if you can’t pay the fee
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| Shout out my nigga, Fee
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| See, every motherfucker at the door don’t get a key
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| You’re outside looking in, so tell me what you see
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| It’s about money, it’s bigger than me
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| I tell my homies, «Don't kill him, bring the nigga to me,» yeah
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| Don’t miss, you fucking with the hitman
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| Kidnap a nigga, make him feel like a kid again
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| Straight up, I ain’t got no conversation for you
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| Nigga, talk to the (Cannon!)
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| Yeah, have a few words with the (Cannon!)
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| Yeah, tell it to my motherfucking (Cannon!)
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| Yeah, straight up, I ain’t got no conversation for you
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| Nigga, talk to the (Cannon!)
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| Yeah, have a few words with the (Cannon!)
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| Nigga, tell it to my motherfucking (Cannon!)
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| Ayo, ayo, I make it hard for rap niggas, I’m peer pressure (Yes)
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| Matter of fact I’m motivation to rap better (Yes)
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| I show niggas how to act, how to dress better
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| I stay fresh, more fitted caps than bat catchers (Woo)
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| I’m the crack, the smack, the gun, the rule
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| The gat, the strap, the gun, the tool
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| The motherfucking (Cannon!)
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| Other words, I’m the real, for real
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| We can go check for check or bill for bill
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| We can go chick for chick or skill for skill
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| The deal is sealed, niggas ain’t real as Will
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| 'Cause I’m a (Cannon!)
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| And I handle well, pedal like Cannondale
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| And I got the 50-cal mag, it’s a handheld (Cannon, nigga)
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| I’m telling you niggas, I pop, put a shell in you niggas
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| My nice watch’ll Helen Keller you niggas
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| I got whores in the Canon camcorder bending over
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| Blowing 'ghan by the quarter, weed odor in the Rover, nigga
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| Ugh, from Philly to where I’m landing I’m a (Cannon!)
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| And I’m on that Philly fighting shit, and I come fully equipped
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| You try me, get bodied, keep nina and shotty in the whip
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| If a nigga try to stick me, I’ma blam him
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| Sing along now, «Di-di-dadi,» I’m Free, got the butters
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| Got the green, he got the tan, got the whole enchilada
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| Owe me dough, I’m inside of your house, tie up your brother
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| Make the prick call up your mother
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| She might know where to find you, I am…
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| On top of my job, the heavyweight champ of the flowers
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| Flow like the ocean, open water, ya drowning, I will
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| Four-pound him and sink him, heat him, then leave him stinking
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| Sharks surround him and eat him, nice to know him, I will (Yeah)
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| Roll over your squad like I’m «One-Punch» Carr
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| You chumps, you best call General Motors, I will
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| Take control of your soldiers, you won’t miss 'em (Alright man)
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| 'Til I toss em in the wok like chicken, General Tso, uh-oh! |
| (Ayy)
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| This rap shit like digging in the register
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| Dealing with big embezzlers
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| Get it right, I’m better than «better than my competitors»
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| Ahead another level up, me, I’m worth 'leven-plus
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| I could stop rapping—ain't I already said enough?
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| The whole motherfucking game owe me, time to settle up
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| If I move forward a little slower, you’ll be catching up (Hold up)
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| Now that’s the shit you need to listen for
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| 'Cause where I’m from, niggas dumb
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| They’ll give you what you itching for
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| It’s a issue in which you’re best to handle your business, bruh
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| 'Cause ain’t no politicking with killers coming to get you, bruh
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| They all go, they all know to hold fire
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| In the dark, shoot sparks like rims with no tires
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| I don’t deal with the lames, I’d much rather blow by you
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| They known to spit a lot of hot air like blowdryers
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| And I’m really off the wire, look at me, I’m on fire
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| Her’es some useful information if you don’t know Sire
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| Just know I got cake (Cake), and I’m not fake (Fake)
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| So you should show a nigga instead of doing an about-face
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| And if not, all you got to say is you want to get busy
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| And I’m down, get with me, any town, pick a city, fuck nigga!
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| Cannon! |