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eah, I'm back up in this bitch, just like a uterus, |
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And I don't need no lubricated condom when I'm doing this. |
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Always got a doobie lit, swerve behind the wheel and maneuver it, |
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20-20 with it they use my eyes and see the future with 'em. |
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Moving shit, I'm just trying to be what I'm supposed to be, |
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Supposedly I'm dope, Saint Nicholas ain't as cold as me. |
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Thing we got in common is I'm always with a hoe or three. |
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Make it drop it like someone with Parkinson's carrying groceries. |
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'Cause I'm here and I rap that shit, doing shows and stacking chips, |
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Take my shirt off when I spit, that's why your girl is on my dick. |
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Got these tats all on my body and a pocket full of piff, |
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Fill the bong up with some ice cubes, baby, take a hit. |
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See, I'm running for the title, everybody voting Webster. |
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Drinking straight tequila out a motherfucking blender |
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Middle finger stay up, nobody can censor |
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I'm a dog, always sniffing for the female gender. |
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Friend her up on Facebook and from there it's a wrap, |
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Send her poke and then tomorrow she'll be sitting on my lap. |
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Even back, when I was broke, my girlies always had a rack |
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Love them big titty bitches with bodies covered in tats. |
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It's that marijuana twister, a twist and grabbing ladies from the mixer |
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Then I bring 'em to the telly and crack a bottle of liquor. |
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'Cause I never gave a fuck, I'm the type to bang your sister, |
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Then go back to your crib and fuck your moms like Stiffler. |
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I hope you get the picture, take it on your Kodak, |
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Up in Webby's World you cannot reach me with a road map |
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To find that you need Adderall, Ambien and some Prozac. |
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Always cooking fire, someone show me where the stoves at. |
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Keep on dropping heat, all you players grab your cleats, |
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'Cause I'm all in this game for winning, I don't settle for defeat. |
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From the suburbs to the streets I will stand by what I speak |
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And I don't even know what this bitch is saying up on the beat. |
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But I got a hundred bars on me, |
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Everything that we throw on, the credit card's on me. |
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Every drink that we get, the titty bar's on me |
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And I'll be living just like this until my heart don't beat. |
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Bitches it's Chris Webby, that whitey who spit deadly, |
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With my foot up on the pedal like I'm Mario Andretti. |
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Fucker, I rap flames and murder the rap game |
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Spittin' 'til I'm number one with a bullet like Max Payne. |
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Got that Nerf gun tucked and I'll aim it at your gut, |
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Better duck is the track that cracker and slapper of big but. |
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Getting drunk, always looking for some double D cups, |
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But in the lab I'll cook it up like I'm Wolfgang Puck. |
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Get in the game and I go straight H.A.M., |
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When I get the rock up in my hand, |
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'Cause I'm here to get it popping, just exactly how I planned. |
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Take a stand right here for this rapping shit and keep my lyrics accurate |
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Test me while beating Webby, just simply will never happen. |
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Bitch, salute me, 'cause truly, I be the dopest on the chords, |
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Master Yoda with the bars, I'm a Jedi with the Force. |
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That's 'cause Webby done got that flow, they get act like they don't know, |
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But they ain't fucking with me, period, yo, fanito. |
