Bashy - Cannon lyrics

(Ragz2Richez b**h!) [Intro] You know me, it’s Bashy man You won’t see me in Red Monkeys man I’d rather buy a thousand mixtapes yeah Oii [Verse 1] The names Ash but it’s Bash to you f*ggots In Green mans got guns bigger than a (Cannon) And the youngers are nutters, a bunch of mischievous f**ers who would cut you in your adams I won’t stop until I’m bading just like the Adams Hustling, getting my bank balance up per annum Guns man doe, pull ’em out for fashion they bang ’em And when the jakes come, act like nothing happened But out to the tugs in the slammer Let me take the time to say, free my n***a Gangbanga Stana Who? Gangbanga Stana yes blood, he reps his manor He’s a hard face, Scarface black Montana Anyway back to the manor, where North West ain’t in a pa**er pa**er Quick to tell ya p**y, know yourself guns go bracka bracka I’m a stacker, stacker you slacker, slacker Plus it look like a bunny nyam your chain cause it’s lacking carrots And girls feel my swagger from back in the day When I dropped the 1-10’s with Dolce & Gabbana Fresh off the hanger but now I want the Jacobs, I ain’t talking crackers Me work for the crackers? Are you f**ing crackers? And girls love my mixtapes, I’m flattered And guys tell me when they see me, I’m getting battered huhh Stay there with your little daggers, got the ting here So like the Rock says, ‘It doesn’t matter!’ Cause you need to be, quick to scare me But I’ll fly like (???) Punch your claat, take the shank and slice you like salami Better k** me if you harm me, I’m not inna that malarky f** swimming with the fishes, you’ll be drowning where the sharks be f** your Mr. Miyagi karate, don’t make me laughy Grab you by the boat, stab you in the throat with the car key Yeah I’m with my army, sit back and enjoy your Bacardi Don’t make us spoil the party, you punani My boys are animals, no safaris No games, no Atari’s No jokes like Cat and Arby n***as will snatch your Carti, advertise the product like ‘Sace, Sace’ Auction it off to the highest bidder I roll with couple k**ers, who will run in your yard and Meet the Parents like Ben Stiller You know them f**rie Yardies Anyway, look I drop Armani and Cavalli, smell of Dreamer by Versace On the road I’m stacking hard P’s, hardly got the time for barneys (???) and (???) meeting all these ladidadi’s and arty fartys like ‘Kiss, kiss, Ashley, Ashley’ Movie directors like cast me, cast me I’ll act in your trilogy, from Part One right through to Part Three Not racist but f** the Nazi’s, big up Idi Amin This is London, Kensal Rise b**h this ain’t Marcy n***as move the queues of the Charlie, making profit off the Barley Won’t stop ’til my pockets are fatter than MC Narstie [Outro – talking] Yeah Shut up, shut up, shut up Yo, don’t ya know I said them tings go bracka, bracka You know them tings go bracka, bracka Hmmm.. Oiiii, nahhhh