Killin' Em

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]

Yeah, yeah

I be killin’ ‘em

Yeah, yeah

I’m killin’ ‘em

Till my bank statement reads twenty-seven million

They said I couldn’t do it so you know I gotta get it done

Acrobatic rappin’ the way that Webby be flippin’ son

Six mixtapes and the fans need more

I hit the fork in the road and took a detour

Fire marshall shuttin’ shows down

Cause I blow up spots like a dalmatian strapped up with C4

Blow minds when they heard the rap

Hustle so many tapes you think I’m servin' crack

Make bass lines sizzle when I burn a track

Only dude who made Datpiff’s server crash

Yo I’m nice better learn the facts

Came a long fuckin’ way, not a chance I’ll be turnin' back

Uh, so you know that I’ma rap check ‘em

When I put my fitted cap back like Ash Ketchum

I beat 'em up, grab an EMT

Think you better then you must be takin’ DMT

Dream on muthafucka I am the MC

Hard body flow, cop my tape at GNC

See, I shut 'em up like they Papa Doc

Cause I got more lines than a Stop and Shop

On the day before Thanksgiving, yeah I drop a lot

Of shit, stealthy in the game like an ocelot

Ha, Mortal Kombat logo tatted on my back

So you know I’m gonna finish him from the moment I attack

I’m a train passenger all I need is a track

To be gettin’ where I’m goin’ and when I do it’s a wrap

So step when I bust, get left in my dust

I’m in it to the finish investin’ my bucks

The best and I just don’t stop, an animal

My manager found me up at Pet Supplies Plus

Plus I be killin’ ‘em consecutively

Without expending any energy, effortlessly

I got a bag full of trees, Chef Boyardee

And a hometown throne in the 203

Motherfuckas know, they better tuck and roll

Cause I’m the Master and Commander of this shit

They call me Russell Crowe

I’ll never love a ho, so I’ll wear a rubber bro

If I have a kid I’ll get disowned by my mother, yo

On another note, nobody can step to me

I think I may have told you already, but with my memory

It’s hard to remember anything after all the ecstasy

But still they can’t touch me like I got a case of Leprosy

I got ‘em askin’ questions like they playin’ Jeopardy

A dope spittin’ white boy

What is Chris Webby, see

They take shit too serious, I’m here to add some levity

Roll a J and take one to the head, John Kennedy

What I’m here to do is pretty fuckin’ clear cut

Even at forty-five with a beer gut

I’ma still get your chick wetter than a tear duct

And make mixtapes that’ll get your ear fucked

Not in Taylor Gang, not a Young Moola

I’m in Webby’s World, I am the one rula

Nerf gun shoota, with a dumb aim

Leavin’ Monica Lewinsky with a cum stain

Untamed, understand the flows

I’m dope, but at this point the fans should know

HBO flow with a Band of Bros

And a chick with an ass fatter then Amber Rose

Heh, I throw ‘em off like a star pitcher

They can’t follow the flow the way the bars hit ya

I’m a bar spitta

Shit, them beatin' me is like seein' Mel Gibson at a Bar Mitzvah

[Outro: Chris Webby]

Yeah, I be killin’ ‘em

Heh, I be killin’ ‘em

Yeah, Hahaha

Yeah, Webby’s Lab, yessir