Chris Webby
Fuckin Problem
[Intro]
Yea!
Webby
Bars are still on me man
I just keep going
CT where you at
Yea, it's like that

See I'm a beast
Always have been, always will be
Hungry, a seven course meal couldn't fill me
Wanna come and step to the flow then fucka feel free
I can make a lyricist look like Lil' B
Been in the game for a minute under your radar
Building my momentum for the moment that I'll take charge
My reflection still the same like spelling racecar
Now I've just come far enough to overcome the race card
Let me break it off proper
Freestylin' to your chick, yea take it off mama
I'm a professional showing you who really hotter
Gotta smaller chance of beating me than finding Jimmy Hoffa
Got a lot of people rolling with me how is it a shocker
That I made it to the top, spittin' out this molten lava
But now I'm fryin' rappers up like some cala-mari
Sorry, I'm chewin' any beat like a piranha
With the weed up in my paper or up in a Philly, fuck it
Until I'm on a beach with a margarita like Jimmy Buffet
I be spittin' these flows, time to really get it man
Snappin' like a gorilla wearing a silly band
Like a tattooed grizzly
Sick, representing Raccoon City
Playin' these shows, then I smash two bitties
Blazin' these flows 'til I stack two milli
Came up in the game like a certified hustler
Pedal to the metal 'til I'm burning my muffler
Fuck ya, everyday I stay smoking
My jar is ajar yea keep that shit open, potent
They can't measure up I'm too tall yo
Choke 'em, murder on the mic and now they all know
Frozen, spit it so cold that I cause snow
You gon' need a sweater and beanie like waldo
Mother fucker I am that dude
Who else could pull off these Super Mario tattoos
I got these other rappers salty like cashews
Cause I'm bad news, for my competition, that's true
Comin' through, my dude, I live limitless
Sick, achoo, I proved I spit vigorous
Hating on me while I bruise your chicks clitoris
She was into it and I was into her, get it bitch?
Kid Icarus, flying through the clouds
With a bottle full of liquor and a pocket full of loud
G-g-go across the country and I'm rockin' every crowd
I'm a dog, one hundred deeds of Eddie McDowd
And I'm a spit my damn flows, suburban commando
Call me Rambo, backpack on like Banjo
Kazooie, truly in charge like soprano
And Jacks at the head of the table of Samcro
My mind wanders while I'm writing a free-verse
And this weed only makes my A.D.D. worse
But I'm coming with the bars let the beast work
That's why your little sister got a Webby t-shirt
Rocking, dope hip-hopping
Full speed with it and I never plan on stopping
Italiano on the mic so yo he fucking mobbin'
All I do is murder beats I got a fucking problem