Webby's Lab 2 (Intro)

Read Chris Webby's Explanation "Webby's Lab 2 (Intro)"

[Verse 1]

Yeah...

I was, stuck inside my fuckin' studio pacing

Stressin' and second guessin' with all the music I'm makin'

Re assessin' who I choose to put faith in

And re-examinin' who really has a say in all these moves that I'm makin'

Stepped away for a minute, made a new situation

And now it's back to the basics, I know you have been waitin'

Cause see it ain't about the numbers or the views or rotations

I'm hungry, those in my way should get to funeral arrangin'

I'll bruise em, I'll scrape em, I'll chew em, I'll break em

And get a skewer, filet em, like food on my plate

And throw what's left in the stew I was makin'

I'm patient, I'm calm, and I'm cool, I'm just sayin'

The person that you see when you Google my name

With those stupid photo shoots from like 2008

With the early interviews of me sayin'

Some super outdated chemically fueled ludicrous statements

Was just a kid who lacked guidance, up in the public eye

But I'm all grown up now, so fuck it right?

Let's get back to raisin' hell up again

And talkin' shit about these rappers cause I'm better than them

Time to give 'em all a show, so go assemble your friends

We in the lab like it's 2011 again

The hands on the clocks jumpin', but dammit I'm not bluffin'

It's time to make shit get outta hand like I dropped somethin'

Won't stop nothing I'm back bitch, the bandicoot of DatPiff

With my lab kit, and bottle ready to crash shit

[Interlude]

Oh you think that's it?

Not even close motherfucker

Check

[Verse 2]

Rockin' crowds is what I love to do

Adrenaline is pumpin' through

My body, sending dopamine levels right through the fuckin' roof

Serotonin rushin' too, more than any drug could do

Music's like my antidepressant, this shit ain't nothing new

Without it I'd be caught up in stress, an alcoholic, a mess

I don't just do this cause it offers a check

Cause I don't need a label office, a jet, or a crib in the hills

Or a Lamborghini and jewelry all on my neck

But I'm sick of fallin' in debt with this Indian guy from American Express puttin' in this call to collect

But I see being pushed to the brink as a test

And honestly, bein' broke really seems to bring out my best

I feel like, I'm locked inside a fuckin' cage with a pen

Bein' pushed to the point that I hate this game that I'm in

Surrounded by these people who just like to fake and pretend

So they ask, "if that's the case why you ain't famous as them?"

I dunno, but just lemme give my midnight toast

Hip-hop's dead like Nas said and it's this I quote

I'm feelin' like I'm out the loop and it's an inside joke

"Wait wait, you're actually serious? You think this guy's dope?"

So I'll keep givin' my lectures, professor Webster is back

In my mask, jacket, and gloves, cookin' tracks in the desert

I'm back and I'm better, actin' erratic, dramatic, and clever

Cause I'm, still up in the fuckin' lab like Dexter

[Outro]

Five years later, we back up in the laboratory motherfucker!

Welcome to the mixtape

Ya!