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