Just Dance

Yo! Chris Webby Who else you know is about to go rap over some Lady Gaga? Yo for real I go hard [Verse 1: Chris Webby] Just dance, dance, hold it down Didn’t think I’m ill? Well you know it now What’ll come, around goes around That’s why I hit ‘em with the dopest sound Flowin’ now got a dub to twist And not even Ron Jeremy can fuck with this Cause I’m fuckin’ sick, so who’s touchin’ Chris? Treat a chick like an Oreo and double dip Because I’m white as a glass of milk and I’mma rap until The sun comes up, Massive skill What I got ? so I don’t gotta brag I’m ill But I still do when I’m drunk on a bag of pills Cause I rap shit hotly, everybody watch me Cause I love attention and nobody can stop me Go against me, then I’m like John Gotti And you will get taken care of like Tamagotchi So sick that they think I’m a zombie, gee whiz Gaudi I’m so godly, rollin’ with my homeboy Abi So you know I’mma do what I gotta do hard body I’m the shit need a potty Probably do it all in front of your eyes like Hibachi Roll the dice like Yahtzee, got more balls than Botchi I’m rollin’ out top speed, and I’m callin’ out shotty! No blitz, bitch no this, I’m so sick if you didn’t notice You don’t know what I been through did you But I still keep it cooler than an igloo And I don’t gotta be a big dude I’m still a Pitbull and you’re a Shih Tzu So strong I could lift you, pick you Up and drop you, don’t even need to hit you Grapple rappers, put ‘em on the ground Pin ‘em real quick no need for a second round I was a yellow belt at 6 holdin’ it down Now takin’ over town by town Wow, Let me just smash the set And find me a little bachelorette And I’mma bring her back to the sac and sex Well see how the action gets Then round two if she pasts the test Spit with a cleverly skilled mixture Big as the Beverly hills ninja (hiya!) Rollin’ up the windows, Light the L Puff puff pass till we gettin' high as hell Kill ’em with the wordplay nice as well Will I get signed soon? only time will tell But I’m kickin’ it for now and I love that Postin’ up at the crib like a Rugrat Now where the dutch at, fuck that I’m ill, Chris Webby bitch You better remember that damn name Shit. And I’m out!