Get From Round

[Intro:] Uh, yessir It's Chris Webby 2-0-3, where you at? Ha-ha, yeah [Verse 1: Chris webby] Get from out of my vicinity, listen see This is the, dude who be flyer than a Griffin be Sippin' tea, gettin' my voice right to strike out willingly Ready for the game, already had my epiphany Now who could get rid of me, I show no sympathy When I hit the track I make 'em jump like Jiminy Cricket, and bitches be bewildered by my wizardry And opponents be gettin' Michael J. Fox jittery Can't tell if I'm dreamin', somebody start pinchin' me How do I keep killin' these critics with my similes Metaphors, I'm the Megazord, y'all feelin' me I'll rap from now until you count to infinity Flow art like Mozart, conducting my symphony Hold it down on stage with my main man Timothy Simply a pot-head, I am the epitome But I am who I am and nobody could reconfigure me Yeah, you think there was ten of me, the way I crush my enemies A guaranteed recipe for disaster, come step to me Generally, you don't even know how potent my venom be I'm handsome, young and in charge like John Kennedy There is no discrepancy, I'm illy with my weaponry I got the front row at the theater, no one's ahead of me I'm losin' it mentally, but flowin' it deadly So, who here could measure me, 'cos you know who Webby be And just know that Webby be, readily rollin' up that heady tree Smokin til I'm 70, get at me And I'm spittin' it fatal, on demand like digital cable Make heads spin like a dreidel I am able, and mad nice, so bitch you better act right Cause steppin' to me is like seeing Clay Aiken and Shaq fight Hit 'em so hard that I'll knock 'em to their past life Even though I'm white enough to glow in front of black lights That's right, I am the best you can't mess bro Nike Kicks, wardrobe fresh from Mark Echo Let's go, blazin' the shit, got haze in the spliff Bitch, I'm number one like I'm takin' a piss But I spit out number two cause what I say is the shit Bitch, I'm hungry in the game I need a table for six There's no evasion from this, cause I'mma leave them on the floor dead Cause y'all are about as hard as an infant's forehead I run this shit 'til I got sore legs, I need a stretch Hip-Hop Chea Pet, livin' off of weed and sex Line 'em all up, I'll knock 'em down, I can beat the best Now I need a breath, I need a rest [Outro:] Ha-ha, that's just how it is baby It's bars all day, I just drop bars Whatever hobby, we goin' to the top, baby Yessir Get from round me [x4] Ha