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| Cassidy Split Personality Pop That Cannon Feat:Styles P. [Intro - Swizz Beatz] Aooow! banger, let's go (Swizz, man) Styles P (Oh, y'all ain't know) Cassidy Full Surface, listen it's a rap for y'all, whooo! Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, aoow! [Verse 1 - Cassidy] Look, homes behave, or get cut wit ya own blade The chrome raise, put ya guts on ya own leg Nigga I'm sicker then full-blown AIDS And my block got more rocks, then the Stone Age You been afraid, you sweet like homemade Lemonade, if it's beef, then the chrome blaze You could make the newspaper, get ya own page And make the news too, you know how my dudes do We wear masks so you can't tell, who's who And for the cash, we'll blast at you dudes too Wit the lead pipe, so get ya head right I'm in the Benz, rims, spin at the red light I'm comin for cash, gun in the dash And I'm on 21 and a half's (for real cannon) I got my gat, I ain't walkin without it And I cock and clap, you just talkin about it, nigga [Chorus - Cassidy] + (Swizz Beatz) POP that cannon, POP that cannon POP that cannon, POP that cannon (It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared) (It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared) So a - POP that cannon, POP that cannon POP that cannon, POP that cannon (It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared) (It's whatever motherfuckas, I ain't scared) [Verse 2 - Styles P.] Niggaz is fly now, and everybody livin a lie now But shit feel different wit a gun in ya eyebrow No fuckin wit the Holiday Styles kid Blow wit a ton of guns, and he got a hell of an outbid Like Cosby in the hood, I knock the jelatin out shit Organs on the floor of the van Cause you gotta show these faggot motherfuckas, that you more of a man Y'all wanna fly like Mike... motherfuckas So they won't find you, or your Jordans again Take a boss to be ordered the men, give them a call If you don't have my money, in 24 hours Then the cock-sucka won't see his daughter again It's like the movie that you seen, I'm the star of the screen I got a roll for you to play... stand here And take six to the face, I dug a hole for you today Holiday Styles, killin 20 soldiers in a day, what [Chorus] [Verse 3 - Cassidy] Ayo I use to pitch nicks, now I spit rhymes I'ma get mine, legit, or the quick grind Shit my whole clique commit crimes Did time, been on the strip and grip nines But I swear to you motherfuckas I got my gun right here, I ain't scared of you motherfuckas I'm a hustler, plus a check cutter I stretch butter, in {???} X, now that's gutter I came for war, you know what them thangs is for Slug make ya blood stain the floor It ain't a game no more, niggaz gon' respect me I grip gats, that kick back like Jet Li So don't test me, or the boy S.P Cause I ain't tryna get no fuckin blood, on my fresh tee You don't impress me, STOP that cannon Cause you could get ROCKED, when I POP that cannon [Chorus] |
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