Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Cannon Remix , by - DJ Drama. Release date: 03.12.2007
Song language: English
Cannon Remix |
| Alright, Mr. Thanksgiving, this for the money this time |
| Yeah |
| Drama |
| Howdy-do, motherfuckers, it’s Weezy Baby |
| Niggas bitchin' and I gotta tote the (Cannon) |
| Haha, listen close, I got duct tape and rope |
| I leave you missing like the fucking O’Bannons |
| One hand on my money, one hand on my buddy |
| That’s the AK-47, make his neighborhood love me |
| Bullets like birds, you can hear them bitches humming |
| Don’t make that bird shit, he got a weak stomach |
| Niggas know I’m sick, I don’t spit, I vomit, got it? |
| One egg short of the omelet |
| Simon says, «Shoot a nigga in his thigh and leg |
| And tell him, 'Catch up,' like mayonnaise,» um… |
| I’m the sickest nigga doing it, bet that, baby |
| These other niggas dope, I’m wet crack, baby, yes! |
| Get back, get back, boy, this a setback |
| Clumsy-ass niggas slip and fall into a deathtrap |
| Them boys pussy, born without a backbone |
| And if you strapped, we can trade like the Dow Jones |
| Wet 'em up, I hope he got his towel on |
| I aim at the moon and get my howl on |
| Some niggas cry wolf, I’m on that dry kush |
| And when it comes to that paper, I stack books, ha |
| You heard what I said |
| I can put you on your feet or put some money on your head |
| Life ain’t cheap, you better off dead if you can’t pay the fee |
| Shout out my nigga, Fee |
| See, every motherfucker at the door don’t get a key |
| You’re outside looking in, so tell me what you see |
| It’s about money, it’s bigger than me |
| I tell my homies, «Don't kill him, bring the nigga to me,» yeah |
| Don’t miss, you fucking with the hitman |
| Kidnap a nigga, make him feel like a kid again |
| Straight up, I ain’t got no conversation for you |
| Nigga, talk to the (Cannon!) |
| Yeah, have a few words with the (Cannon!) |
| Yeah, tell it to my motherfucking (Cannon!) |
| Yeah, straight up, I ain’t got no conversation for you |
| Nigga, talk to the (Cannon!) |
| Yeah, have a few words with the (Cannon!) |
| Nigga, tell it to my motherfucking (Cannon!) |
| Ayo, ayo, I make it hard for rap niggas, I’m peer pressure (Yes) |
| Matter of fact I’m motivation to rap better (Yes) |
| I show niggas how to act, how to dress better |
| I stay fresh, more fitted caps than bat catchers (Woo) |
| I’m the crack, the smack, the gun, the rule |
| The gat, the strap, the gun, the tool |
| The motherfucking (Cannon!) |
| Other words, I’m the real, for real |
| We can go check for check or bill for bill |
| We can go chick for chick or skill for skill |
| The deal is sealed, niggas ain’t real as Will |
| 'Cause I’m a (Cannon!) |
| And I handle well, pedal like Cannondale |
| And I got the 50-cal mag, it’s a handheld (Cannon, nigga) |
| I’m telling you niggas, I pop, put a shell in you niggas |
| My nice watch’ll Helen Keller you niggas |
| I got whores in the Canon camcorder bending over |
| Blowing 'ghan by the quarter, weed odor in the Rover, nigga |
| Ugh, from Philly to where I’m landing I’m a (Cannon!) |
| And I’m on that Philly fighting shit, and I come fully equipped |
| You try me, get bodied, keep nina and shotty in the whip |
| If a nigga try to stick me, I’ma blam him |
| Sing along now, «Di-di-dadi,» I’m Free, got the butters |
| Got the green, he got the tan, got the whole enchilada |
| Owe me dough, I’m inside of your house, tie up your brother |
| Make the prick call up your mother |
| She might know where to find you, I am… |
| On top of my job, the heavyweight champ of the flowers |
| Flow like the ocean, open water, ya drowning, I will |
| Four-pound him and sink him, heat him, then leave him stinking |
| Sharks surround him and eat him, nice to know him, I will (Yeah) |
| Roll over your squad like I’m «One-Punch» Carr |
| You chumps, you best call General Motors, I will |
| Take control of your soldiers, you won’t miss 'em (Alright man) |
| 'Til I toss em in the wok like chicken, General Tso, uh-oh! |
| (Ayy) |
| This rap shit like digging in the register |
| Dealing with big embezzlers |
| Get it right, I’m better than «better than my competitors» |
| Ahead another level up, me, I’m worth 'leven-plus |
| I could stop rapping—ain't I already said enough? |
| The whole motherfucking game owe me, time to settle up |
| If I move forward a little slower, you’ll be catching up (Hold up) |
| Now that’s the shit you need to listen for |
| 'Cause where I’m from, niggas dumb |
| They’ll give you what you itching for |
| It’s a issue in which you’re best to handle your business, bruh |
| 'Cause ain’t no politicking with killers coming to get you, bruh |
| They all go, they all know to hold fire |
| In the dark, shoot sparks like rims with no tires |
| I don’t deal with the lames, I’d much rather blow by you |
| They known to spit a lot of hot air like blowdryers |
| And I’m really off the wire, look at me, I’m on fire |
| Her’es some useful information if you don’t know Sire |
| Just know I got cake (Cake), and I’m not fake (Fake) |
| So you should show a nigga instead of doing an about-face |
| And if not, all you got to say is you want to get busy |
| And I’m down, get with me, any town, pick a city, fuck nigga! |
| Cannon! |