Cannon (AMG Remix)

Cannon (AMG Remix) - Lil Wayne (李爾·韋恩)

Howdy do motherf**kas it's Weezy Baby

Niggaz bitchin' and I gotta tote the

Listen close I got duct tape and rope

I leave you missing like the f**king 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 b**ches humming

Don't make that bird sh*t he got a weak stomach

Niggaz know I'm sick

I don't spit I vomit got it

One egg short of the omelet

Simon says shoot a ni**a in his thigh and leg

And tell him ketchup like mayonnaise

Um I'm the sickest ni**a doing it bet that baby

These other niggas d**e I'm wet crack baby

Yes get back get back boy this a set back

Clumsy a** niggas slip and fall in to a death trap

Them boys p**sy 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 niggaz cry wolf I'm on that dry kush

And when it comes to that paper

I stack books

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 ni**a Free

See every motherf**ka at the door

Don't get a key

Outside lookin' 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 ni**a to me

Yeah don't miss

You f**king with the hitman

Kidnap a ni**a

Make him feel like a kid again

Straight up

I ain't got no conversation for you

Ni**a talk to the

Yeah have a few words with the

Yeah tell it to my motherf**king

Yeah straight up

I ain't got no conversation for you

Ni**a talk to the

Yeah have a few words with the

Ni**a tell it to my motherf**king

From Philly to where I'm landing I'm a

And I'm on that Philly fighting sh*t

And I come fully equipped

You trolley get bodied

Keep nina and shotty in the whip

If a ni**a try to stick me

I'm a blame 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 flowas

Flow like the ocean open water your 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 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 till

I toss 'em in the wok like chicken

General toast 'em uh oh

I make it hard for rap niggaz I'm peer pressure

Matter fact I'm motivation to rap better

I showed niggaz how to act how to dress better

I stay fresh more fitted caps than back catchers

I'm the crack the smack the gun the rule

The gat the strap the gun the tool

The motherf**king

Other words I'm the real for real

We can go check for check or bill for bill

We can go chick for chick skill for skill

The deal is sealed niggaz ain't real as Will

'Cause I'm a

And I handle well pedal like Cannondale

And I got the 50-cal mag it's a hand held

I'm telling you niggaz

I pop put a shell in you niggaz

My nice watch'll Helen Keller you niggaz

I got whores in the Canon camcorder bendin' over

Blowing 'ghan by the quarter

W**d odor in the Rover ni**a

Detriot Red gettin' change like them white folks

Dump it out the window of the Range

With the rifle

Pain like a b**ch like the first day of a cycle

You better scurry when I pull the

Tracks burn the streets like a truck do the gas

I love head and caressing a voluptuous a**

I ask you baby mama is she up to the task

She like damn Red it's bigger than

My attire makes the ladies

Say your man is too fly

Imported oils from Iran and Dubois

Get caught slipping with your mans and you die

Where I'm from niggaz be quick to squeeze the

Detroit Red always got some sh*t for your ear

Show me love but keep it moving man

'Cause you if you get near

I'll say 'Get off my dick"

And tell ya b**ch to 'Come here'

'Cause you sweating me and my DJ Don

Leg's spread far out you know how I'm standing

Yeah I'm posted with the big homie

I got niggaz who don't like rap lovin' our sh*t

We got niggaz who was stuck on

Pac bumpin' our sh*t

These niggaz can't see me

Like I ain't been around lately

A good batter when they at the mound

It's gravy

Niggaz salty I'm pepper no Spinderella

Just a cigarillo filled with Tropicana

Yeah Vic found that lick now

We smoking no more regular

Keep you mid-grade

I don't think you know no better

They love 'In Da Trunk'

Now they wanna hear more sh*t

I play it modest like

"Ni**a thats some of our old sh*t"

Got niggaz I ain't never met

Wanting to fight me

Got hoes that's in love asking

"Why you don't like me "

B**ch I'm married to the game

And I love my wifey

Steppin' over competition man

I love these Nikes

Yeah I'm hot they fannin'

Niggaz try to copy my style like the

Don't try to compare I'm in a league of my own

If I ain't listed at the top ni**a the stats is wrong

All the data is off you info ain't valid

Artist of the century

The competition ain't balanced

True like Master P and his two brothers

Don't call it i****t but

Juice the motherf**ker like ch'yea