mixtape: "The Checkup" (2014)




Not Like Me lyrics - Chris Webby

[Intro:]
If you're in need of a ghost writer
Not like me
You choke up when you're in the cypher
You're not like me
If you're not constantly dropping fire
You're not like me
Naw naw dude, you're not like-

[Verse 1:]
See Web been big in the game like Shaq O'Neal
Way before I even had no deal
Tune to the broadcast in my Bat-Mobile
And think; Damn, really this is the rap ya'll feel?
The standard has gotten so low, I don't even know
They sellin' out shows and rap about nothing
So now every regular Joe, picks up the mic and they think they can flow
"Wait, all I gotta do is get a couple tats and talk about ass, and titties, and cash?
Hmmm, that doesn't sound hard, ya know what man, I think I'm going to rap" fuck that
They get a laptop with a pro tools pack, spit something' whack
The next big smash, hit number one with the same old trash the last dude did
And we call it rap
What else can I do but say fuck it
I'm really not mad at the rapper for making it
But I get mad at the people who keep up the cycle
Buy into this garbage on iTunes and pay for it
So uhh, if you really wanna save hip-hop, better take your pick
Either support what's real, or get used to the same old shit

[Hook:]
So many people trying to do it, I can't keep up with the names
Just a bunch of carbon copies and they shit is all the same
But regardless of how many other rappers in the game
All I know is that I'll promise one thing
They not like me
They not like me
They not like me
They not like me
They not like me

[Verse 2:]
No matter where the hands on the clock might be
It's my time, so check up on your watch my G
All I need is gym shorts and a stock white t, fuck swag
I'm gonna show you why they not like me
I've had it with rap, ya'll rappers are whack
All that I'm hearing is stacking up cash, and strippers, and bottles, and fatness of ass
Who's fucking buying this crap
So I'm giving you all something new, the shit I do
Ain't never been seen by a kid like you
Inked up white dude with an attitude, hate on, I ain't mad at you
But just check my shoes, I'm a just do it, do what I do
Making this music, drinking my booze, smoking my Buddha
Shit I'm the truth, fuck all your rumors
Fuck you all doing, really what happened
Only a hand full of people are rappin'
Nobody is worried about being dope on the mic
They focusing more on their fashion
Ya'll ain't no emcees yelling about that life, ya'll just frontin'
So I've been sent here to remind you of something
That there's

[Hook]

[Outro:]
They not like me
They not like me
They not like me
They not like me

Chilly lyrics - Chris Webby (feat. Fat Trel)

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
I keep it so chilly, really, see we stay killing it
Cue the theme music, I'm here on my super villain shit
Here to steal your women and hit it more than a little bit
So ladies grab your clitoris, Webby back up in this bitch
My women look like princesses, I got a job at Disney
Made Jasmin leave Aladdin, now I'm getting sloppy quickies
Cinderella's at the tellie and she drop it quickly
Ariel be sucking my dick when she under water with me
Yeah yeah, so let me grab my scuba tank
Stay faded, lighting up that uber stank
Outrageous, yeah you know I do my thing
DJ's bring my records back like they throwing boomerangs
Still I'm not a Freshman up on XXL
But fuck it, cause me and Trel are more happy being expelled
We them bad motherfuckers smoking bogies during gym class
Dropouts, who got your girl's pants dropping quick fast

[Hook: Chris Webby]
Ride around town with the speakers up
The smell is coming from the tree we puff
And we so goddamn cold when they speak to us
Got these little hoes freezing up
We keep it so chilly (na na na na na)
So motherfucking chilly (na na na na na)
Everybody rocking with me (na na na na na)
So damn chilly (na na na na na)

[Verse 2: Fat Trel]
I see three pretty bitches out the corner of my eye
Spring, but a chilly day outside
They run around my way to get themselves into shape
My Desert Eagle and my K outside
Now usually when I'm cooling with two white freaks
I like to fly and lay the pipe on the beach
But today's downtown, tinted window, blowing loud
We finna see what she like in the Gleesh
In Connecticut my college bitch got proper etiquette
Bands and good pussy, but the head come better with
I be trying to focus while I'm stroking it raw
But she too busy plotting on the dollars, some hoes
I was busy blowing something stronger than hope
Trash cans for the liquor bottles and Trojans
Webby in the Chevy like the shit ain't stolen
I'm ready, if you ready we can get it to go
So let's go

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Chris Webby]
See we keeps it so motherfucking frigid
A Fahrenheit digits
So cold that the wheels on your vehicle skidded
Causing ice on the roads, better go the speed limit
And turn them defrosters on when we spit it
Eyes bloodshot, got me pulling down my fitted
Stay lifted, you would think that I was practicing Quidditch
Put a charm spell right on these bitches before I hit it
Got Hermione on my magic stick, baby come and get it
I just killed another bottle
And took another pill, now I'm going full throttle
Keep hating, Hakuna Matata's my motto
I brush em off like a paleontologist with a fossil
Call me young brothel, you're fucked if you step
Bitch I'm chilly, you could feel them goosebumps on your neck
A++, when I come it's correct
With a chick on my lap, in the tub getting wet

[Hook]

Trouble lyrics - Chris Webby

[Intro:]
See you guys, you never listen to me!
I said there was gonna be trouble but you didn't listen to me!
You guys are crazy!

A Kato Production

Yeahhh, Webster!

Ya Ya... Ya Ya Ya Ya, ye yeye ye yeye ye
Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya... Ya Ya

[Verse 1:]
There's about to be some mother fucking trouble when I'm stepping out the huddle
Got these bitches shaking it like they doing the truffle shuffle
All the dudes up in the spot steady bobbin they head
Hanging on to every fucking syllable that I said
Got a double shot of whiskey on ice, Tara Lipinski
But fuck I've been drinking so much that shit'll barely hit me
Pop a zanny and go 0-60 until I'm blacking out
Wake up in jail and call my cousin Vinny
I'm a skinny guinea, tattoos on my skin? Shit, I got plenty
Brain cells in my head? I'm missing many
I've lost it already, if you coming at Webby?
You better come correct or shit it's right with his head, B
Do them like Marie Antoinette, when I slam the set
A handsome vet, that's why your girls pants are wet
My competition a'int gonna even have a chance to sweat
Cause now I'm on, and their plans are wrecked!

[Hook:]
There's about to be trouble, there's about to be trouble, there's about to be trouble, there's about to be trouble
Homie that's a fact (homie that's a fact)
There's about to be trouble, there's about to be trouble, there's about to be trouble, there's about to be trouble
You can count on that! (you can count on that)

[Verse 2:]
I'm cold as Mr. Frosty, icicles be falling off me
Flowin' potent as the poison that they slipped to king Jeoffrey
Wake up and get to work until my cereal is soggy
'Cause I'm, outta my hustle got these haters so salty
Got their sodium levels up through the roof
You'd think they were drinking ocean water really to tell you the truth!
I've fucking had it with these kids that criticize what I do
Come and see me, you'll end up on the sole of my shoe
'Cause see at first I as 'ight, but I got better with practice
Now I'm only fucking chicks that look like Jessica Ravish
Shit I've been crazy since I first opened the medicine cabinet
Experimented now I got a hell of a habit (na na)
Yo I'm kidding I exaggerate the truth 'cause
Mom if you're listening I swear I don't do drugs!
I had my fingers crossed, homie pass the weed
And if you want trouble follow me

[Hook]

[Bridge:]
Baby I'm a trouble maker
That's just always how it's been, I'm a be one to the end
Tell em baby I'm a trouble maker
That's just what I am, don't make me say it again

[Verse 3:]
I've been insane in the head!
Since I played in a pen
Now I'm on the mic see yo the game has began
All my enemies started shakin' and ran
Fuck it ill just let em marinate in the pan
Ya you know I'm about to eat these mother fuckers with a fork and a spoon
One with the force you can feel it when I walk in the room
I'm coming out the temple of doom
So dirty I need to be swept with a broom
My foots up on the peddle and VROOM!
The quarterback, yeah of course I'm back
Homie and it's more than rap
Shit I'm so sharp the microphone's got a sword attached
Hey you looka broads be heading where the dolphins at
Better bring your motherfucking snorkel mask

Tread Lightly lyrics - Chris Webby (feat. Apathy)

If that's true, If you don't know who I am, then maybe the best course would be to tread lightly

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
Listen bitch
Better tread lightly, I put 'em to bed nightly
You'll never see me tired, and losing is less likely
I got the haters mad because their chick is my next wifey
(Keep talking) I don't care if i got your respect, bite me
Y'all think that people up and Connecticut can't rap
Well watch as me and Ap' go and put an end to that
While these other rappers counting their chickens before they hatch
I said fuck it, and made them over easy with some hash
(Oh My God he's on the drugs again) Urine so dirty
Only at my local deli am I going cold turkey
So much musical knowledge they're asking if I went to Berklee
Leaving third degree burns on the microphone until they heard me
I roll around with eighteen birdies, and I ain't playing golf
Just them Kit-Kat bitches, I got to break them off
Got them breathing heavy as Vader giving a monologue
Mazel-tov, Wolf in the game, you just a common dog
I don't even care
My name be ringing bells like Hector Salamanca with dynamite in his wheelchair
So get right, C. Webby is dead nice
You don't know me so trust me bitch, just tread light

[Hook: Chris Webby]
If you don't know me, you better tred light
Oh you people got a lot to say, well okay step up to the mic
(Step, Step up, Step up)
But you ain't my homie, so i'm not gonna play nice
All I need is sixteen bars, swear to God I could end your life
(Take that motherfuckers)

[Verse 2: Apathy]
Shatter matter, at a rate the fake evaporate
Evacuate the wake, then lay the body, I decapitate
I take the head, take you to the hood of my whip
Foot on the metal wood and grip, floating like a wooden ship
Shouldn't shitty rappers ask us permission to rhyme?
Permission declined, the mics booby trapped with fishing line
Finna' shine since a fetus, I can see the finish line
Vicious mind, victims lying in blood when I split your spine
Now I'm spying on these bitches showing tithes on vine
Looking pretty, hoes pose in front of Hollywood signs
If it comes to Me and You, you lose every time
I been deadly with the rhymes since Nirvana Nevermind
Never whine, never crying, never dying, I'm designed
Out of iron, I'm a lion, I'm defined as divine
I'm Allah, I'm Jehovah, Amen-rah, I'm a soldier
I'm a boulder-moving mutant, super human, shit its over
Supernova, super soaker full of acid, I'm blasting
I'm blacking out, passing out laughing at the fact that you rapping
I'm rapidly cracking you crackers into cabbages for bragging
I'm body bagging hoes, y'all shorter then Bilbo Baggins

[Hook: Chris Webby]
If you don't know me, you better tred light
Oh you people got a lot to say, well okay step up to the mic
(Step, Step up, Step up)
But you ain't my homie, so i'm not gonna play nice
All I need is sixteen bars, swear to God I could end your life
(Take that motherfuckers)

Good Day lyrics - Chris Webby (feat. Jitta On The Track)

[Intro:]
We so high
'Cause we so high

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
Yeah
I'm feeling lovely, please don't judge me
Walking on the wild side, you just got to trust me
Rolling round with hippies, everyday I puff trees
Getting so high there ain't nobody above me
And I'm feeling spectacular chilling at the bar
No need for the mean mugging while they acting hard
I be chilling with the people that are happier
And I don't need the biggest house or the fastest car
Shit I'm me and that's all I'll ever be, son
I don't need no money to shape who I become
I'm my own man, now that's freedom
You getting what you paid for no refunds
But fuck it yo this a good day
Listen when the hook play
Baby, this them positive vibes and what I should say
Is that I'm faded, feeling happy as fuck
Living every single day like it's the Cannabis Cup

[Hook:]
Yeah, We smoke and get by
And you know that we so high
And I'm never come down
Yeah, I'm never gonna come down
I'm Just tryna have a good day
'Cause we so high
(When they see him in the dope now?)
We don't really got to stop living this way
But I'm gonna have a good day
Yeah, I'm tryna have a good day

[Verse 2: Jitta On The Track]
Man, I'm so high and I can't come down
She said that she single and she wants some fun now
Said that I'm Jitta and she took her tongue out
Tried to say she shy but that weed's so loud
I be out in L.A
Homegrown the team, baby
Tryna fit a whole eighth up inside a leaf, baby
Yo I'm tryna (cuff?) girl, I ain't with police, baby
Jitta On The Track, (lumber?) life's what your seeing, baby
Yeah, I started with a swisher smoke a blunt up in the morning
Man, I'm tryna have a good day but you know I'm steady on it
And I'm all about my paper like a office to the (laws?)
Get to coughing, man, I'm fresh to death to the [?]
I'm stoned on top like a coffin
Stoned in the cold like I'm Austin
Baby, we can kick it like (Kosten?)
White boys saying that I'm awesome
Shit, I'm just tryna smoke weed to be honest

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Chris Webby]
Feeling great, B
Everything is gravy
I'm just living life, going wherever it takes me
Started from the bottom, now I'm up on phase three
Shit, you know I got them and the crowd be going crazy
I just run in through this war zone
Tryna keep my head low
Think they messing with me, motherfucker, that's a heck no
Check yo, every time I spit I make them sweat yo
You would think they doing hot yoga in a trench coat
I'm just chilling doing my thing
I could give a shit about the money and the fame
All I need some good weed and a bong and a flame
And a little bad bitch that'll scream my name
When I'm laying that pipe like Luigi
Holler when you see me
Cotton mouth criminal, sipping on a Fiji
Coming with that fire they be calling me Khaleesi
I'm just being me I just need to be easy

[Hook]

[Outro:]
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

Superhuman lyrics - Chris Webby

I always wanted to be a superhero man
Have my own super power and shit
Well now I do

I grew up and only child, young Webby in the playpen
Just me and my giant imagination
Playing with my ninja turtles and my spacemen
And reading books instead of going out to make friends
Other kids liked girls and they played sports
I was in my own world on a strange course
Everywhere, I had a pen in my hand
It's like being a rapper was already the plan
But naww, I was writing short stories and drawing pictures
My creative energy was off the Richter
Looking up to superheroes in my comics
The love and respect that they got's what I wanted
But how could I do it, my skills seem useless
Up until I got introduced to rap music
I fell in love that day, and I knew
That just maybe I could have a super power too

[Hook:]
I'm going crazy, that's what they said but I kept it moving
Cause the dreams all I got even if they all said I could never do it
But I never slowed down
I just kept my head straight 'til I made a movement
And now... I'm feeling super human

Years went by and I kept on practicing
Even when it seemed the shit was never happening
Freestyle cyphers on a blunt ride after them
High school parties, writing songs, rap battling
Had me thinking that my super powers were building
Starting feeling I could really change the world with what I'd written
Still continued to write, made a conscious decision
To keep it real on the mic and give em my life
Through the good bad and ugly, my fans still rock with me
Fuck a gimmick, my gimmick is brutal honesty
And they respect that, so I show respect back
Since that first time at school that I took off my pen cap
Wrote my first bars, scribbled lyrics at my desk
In a five subject notebook and I filled every section
Page after page as my skills kept channeling
Young Anakin, now the force can't handle him

[Hook]

My super powers have evolved better look out
Shit I'm Gambit with a full house
Magneto in a metal room
Imhotep when he left the tomb
Superman in the air now
I'm Scott Summers in a stare down
No one's stepping to the shit I'm doing
I'm here and I'm super human

[Scratched:]
"I-I-I got an S on my chest"

You Dont Really Want It lyrics - Chris Webby (feat. Jon Connor Snow, Tha Product)

Listen to me
Learn from me

I don' t play games, homie I don't have time
Especially when I do this for my homes that they ain't got time
I'm a do this for the city
Every hotline, every block, every hood, every corner, every stop sign
And I just want to get It for the days thst I was living in the hood

Grew on the North side
I was quicker than a bullet
Just admit it, somebody will come after the crown
But wtf I am here for?
Stuck in this game, can't get out of it
I don't have a plan, but I know one thing:
Eyes on the process, I can't quit
I'm never gonna fail so I'm on my own shit
Got to keep going and I can't look back
Took on a word, I didn't sell my bac
So I ain't faced by none of this
Cause in the reality, I love this shit

I know it's out of meaning
But it's really time to give it
So it's only fair to let them know that I'm a motherfucking
You know why we come for you
So keep enjoying the show
You don't really want it
You don't really want it, neah

Welcome to the Hunger Games
You give up your life and get tones of fame
You see my pockets are good are you tryin' to be chasin'?
All this bullshit and sick of the politics
All of these hoes really just want to party and have molly
I think I'm gonna stop the game
You bitches are here in my ship
But I'm not spitting any less
You can do what you wish
I ain't stressing
Coverages just don't give a shit

I know it's out of meaning
But it's really time to give it
So it's only fair to let them know that I'm a motherfucking
You know why we come for you
So keep enjoying the show
You don't really want it
You don't really want it, neah
Cause I came too far to stop
I'm a monster, bitch, watch, you better call the cops

I'm the call, people be callin' me sergent
I keep calm until I flip
Then I'm off of this bitch
Cookin' up the East Coast dope
I'm a ghost, you can't see me though
It's so high nigga time
Reach me bro!

I'm feelin' so right
No more psychotic, feelin' my rhymes
I'm loosin't my mind
You better hold your phone
Before you leave with a broken nose
While I sell dope I think about the overdose
Until the dark how could I save my soul?
I never had one bitch

I know it's out of meaning
But it's really time to give it
So it's only fair to let them know that I'm a motherfucking
You know why we come for you
So keep enjoying the show
You don't really want it
You don't really want it, neah
Cause I came too far to stop
I'm a monster, bitch, watch, you better call the cops

Screwed Up lyrics - Chris Webby

[Intro:]
Da, da da da, da
Da, da da da, da

[Hook:]
I’ve got my seat leaned back, keep my tires looking clean
Rolling with the baddest bitches that you ever seen
Always rock my brim low, cause we rolling up the green
Getting screwed up, you know what I mean, mean, mean!
Sipping on my drink, drink, fill another cup
Then I'm rolling up the dank, dank
Twist another dutch, dutch
Shorty what you think, think we don’t give a fuck
Cause I’m always screwed, always screwed, always screwed up!
Let’s go!

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
Back on the mic with the shit I say
We popping off!
And I been going through at least a couple grams a day
Drinking up like Mazel Tov
Cause you know we gon' ball, young entrepreneur
My money long
If I start to run low, then I go back out on tour
Voila! Problem solved, no schedule
I just relax with a weed sack, while my cheese stack cause I run this shit
If I see that, then I need that
Hear me baby girl? Get on your knee caps and suck my dick
'bout to relapse from the pills I get
Blue ones, white ones, purple too
('bout to relapse from the pills I get)
And it puts me in the perfect mood!
Yeah, ooh, (oooh), now I’m feeling too good to move
Everything I’m hearing is chopped and screwed
Rolling in my Chevy when I’m cruising through
Vroom! All black, from the tires to the rims to the paint to the tints
Fire when I spit, put the flame to your bitch when I’m lighting up a spliff then I came on her tits
Shit! See, Webby is a nasty dude with a raspy voice
Cause I burn so much, but my mom still proud
Every time I come around she’s like, "that’s my boy"
Get up on the beat and the track’s destroyed
It is what it is and it is what it be
Webster is the baddest, boy!
You get me screwed up, just follow me!

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Chris Webby]
Get up on a beat like, “bitch, what’s up?”
Every single day I’m getting loose
Got a mixture in my solo cup
So loud, got a subwoofer tied to the roof
Rhymin the truth with a fine little sloot
Hitting more hoes than young Shia LaBeouf
Money on my mind, yeah, money on my mind
Trying to get some pesos on my grind for the loot
I’mma go getter, flow spitter, ho hitter
Surrounded by trees like gorillas
Webby cold to the bone, don’t shiver
Made it this far, now I’m trying to go bigger!
Andre the giant, dropping the finest
Mix tapes, but the game cannot define it
Don’t know whether or not to co-sign it
Because I’m different, fuck if y'all don’t like it!
B-B-B-B-bitch! Yeah, we’ll be head tripping!
I’m about to lose my shit, wait til them meds kick in!
I’m a Doberman Pinscher, y'all just some whack kittens
My bitches look like models, yours look like Meg Griffin
Check out my cat scan, that shit says that I’m out of my mind
I’m just a mad man, rolling up like an ounce at a time
Hitting the club and I bounce with a dime
But only show up for a drink and a song or two
And now that I’m on, all you haters are mad I'm doin what I said I was gonna do

[Hook]

Dirty lyrics - Chris Webby

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
You bite me, and I'll bite back
And I choke you, and you like that
Roll two joints and we light that
And you ain't gotta worry 'bout the price tag
And I ain't gotta ask how many dicks you've sucked
And you ain't gotta ask how many chicks I've fucked
And you ain't trynna have no kids I trust
OK then, let me grip that butt
Slow it down, but she wants it harder
Until we both sweatin' out Molly water
And with the shit I've seen, God bless any man that's got a daughter
'Cause we are looking for some lovin', boys and girls alike
And I'm no Mr. Perfect but that ass gon' learn tonight
Give it to you how you want
Whether brunette or a blonde
I'm pulling chicks like James Bond
And baby you just turn me on
Like a light switch, can't hide it, 'cause I read your mind like a psychic
And I know we get each other excited
So why not? Baby girl don't fight it
Don't fight it, and get in my whip
And you ain't gotta worry 'bout the mileage
And we headed back over to my crib
And fuck 'til we close our eyelids, baby...

[Hook: Sample]
Why can't you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you
Why can't I keep you safe as my own?
One moment I have you the next you are gone

[Verse 2: Chris Webby]
She got that black nail polish
Body like a goddess
What you got, I want it
And I'm a give it back good, I promise
With that cigarette between her lips
Tattoos running down her hips
You got me feeling frisky, baby, come get down with Chris
'Cause I'm a dirty dog
Yes, I'm a tramp
Girls call me a slut
Dudes call me a champ
A master of persuasion
Girl, you don't stand a chance
Full plate got 'em quickly hoppin' right out their pants
Nibble on your earlobe
How you like it, let me know
Give it to you, nice and slow
Pick up the pace and then I go
Giggitty, Giggitty, Giggitty, Giggitty
Hit it so good you won't wanna get rid of me
Hit it like thowin' a pitch up in Little League
And you'll be face down in that pillow, see
Fucking while sipping my liquor, rolling that piff in a swisher
Baby, I'm big as the dipper, you better get ready 'cause Webby ain't quick on the trigger
Bang

[Hook x2: Sample]

[Outro: Sample & Chris Webby]
(So let's get dirty)
Why can't you want me like the other boys do?
(Yeah, let's get dirty)
They stare at me while I stare at you
(Hop up in my whip and let's get dirty)
Why can't I keep you safe as my own?
(Bitch, let's get dirty)
One moment I have you the next you are gone

Wont Be Today lyrics - Chris Webby (feat. Joe Budden)

[Hook:]
I've been here for a minute
While they've judged I lived it
And I've proved I'm here to stay
Now they all gather in and listen till there's nothing left to give 'em
But I still got more to say
I had a struggle on my ride here
Caught up in the grind and I almost lost my way
But if I ever call it quits, all I know is this
It won't be today (it won't be today)

[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
I'm a survivor, I've waited my turn, now it's my time sir
Had to dig deep, pick ax, coal miner
I'm like Ghost Rider, blazing a trail and flow fire
Shit my razor sharp lyrics turn your fitted to a visor
That mix-tape supplier, pulsing through your speaker wires
With a dutchie and a lighter, stay higher than frequent fliers
My word game demolishing these halfway decent writers
They rubbing sticks together I'm your local heat provider
Swerving through the street dividers like it's Large Marge whipping it
Music juiced up, get a car charged with this shit
Now they asking questions like they "Nardwuar" in this bitch
Still I keep it dirty like a barn yard when I spit
Bars hard ripping shit, murder and I bury beats
Always come to play at the studio with a pair of cleats
A pterodactyl to these mother fucking parakeets
Take it to the top, even higher than my hand can reach

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Look... for some of y'all to relate
Ya I trap you in a box for a season
Bullets bobbing and weaving still ain't popping and squeezing
No Lord to abide by, still you watching for deeds and
What's worse, you can't think of any logical reason
Been learned, when the past comes it might be a no look
In the trap they keep you, that's why I stayed in my notebook
The tougher you try to be the lesser I was impressed
And I wish the nigga would like I had his best interest
Arms like tree trunks, weight is relentless
Fuck the world I'm going ape on this bench press
Careful with my foot and though they trimmed off half the ledge
I'm along for your sake dawg, me and the fags don't mesh
'Bout that, you'll see how I react to threats
Hear the gun sing or meet the knife with the jagged edge
But shit ain't how it used to be
So let my foes know they gotta get used to me

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Chris Webby]
Me giving up? It won't happen today
Rap to the day that they fucking bury me, put me in a casket to lay
So while I'm here just listen up to what I happen to say
I'll show you history being made in elaborate ways
I'm still a fully independent juggernaut up in this shit B
Tryin' to make that capital, holding down my shift key
The undisputed Best in the Burbs is what I still be, so feel me
'Cause fucking with the flow is more than risky
A dog built like a doberman-pit mix breed
You pussy cats coughing up hairballs like Stimpy
Me? I spit venom, now I'm reppin in the big leagues
A grizzly, laughing while you teddy bears diss me
Hehhh, so if they ain't digging the flow fuck 'em
Go Mighty Joe Young in the building with Joe Budden
Show I'm something with this music shit, out here doing it
We ain't going nowhere bitch so get used to it

EP: "Homegrown" (2013)




Bar For Bar lyrics - Chris Webby

Yeah...Webby
I drop 50 bars, mad bars, raised the bar twice
The bars are on me all night
If they wanna go bar for bar we can do it on sight
I'm a beast, you're gonna never see me lose a bar fight

Everyone got an opinion but they won't step up
Can do a fucking handstand still got no leg up
So go ahead, talk your shit, yo, come on get tough
I'll Instagram a dick pic, you could all get fucked
I'm still as sick as a malaria patient, I'm very impatient
Stomping up the stairs of the basement (I'm coming)
No hibernation, yo, this bear is awakened
And half the game be softer than what Ben and Jerry are making
I'm a transcendentalist with literary arrangements
Vocabulary is like a dictionary replacement
But they only talking money and they last time I was checking
The greater percentage of America is in a recession (hold up) (what)
So what you're sayin' is these diamond crusted necklaces
And convoluted messages is really what you're messing with
Where's the dope shit what happened to that
Back when people stepped up to the mic and actually rapped
But now I'm on it, been here for a minute, and now I'm back to get them
Had this devil on my shoulder during catechism
Staying high from the purple and the hash I'm hitting
Brain moving slower than Rick Ross' metabolism
I'm here to rap a rhythm, so why you saying shit (why)
So many fucking punch lines, I'm about to break my wrist
Undefeated, yo, I'm hard to be playing with
I'm the king, alter alias is Marcus Aurelius
Killing beats, murder scene, and I'm washing my hands carefully
Scrubbing all the blood out the trunk of the Grand Cherokee
In need of therapy but the doctor's scared of me
Says I need a trip to Shutter Island cuz apparently
I've lost my damn mind,yo, I'm sick in the head
The reason women say that chivalry's dead
I'm that guy, trying to find some company laying in misery's bed
Staying blunted with a fifth to the head
Judge Dredd with a weapon now, laser beam flow bout to blast that
Mother fucking lyricist, you can hashtag that
Freestyle crazy, they like; "Yo, how he rap that?"
So hot off the top, I'll melt the plastic in my snapback
In a hatchback running people over till your body parts are stuck in my motor
Never sober, I got to charge my G-Pen like 12 times every weekend
Sharks and minnows with it always treading in the deep end, shit who needs friends
I got my headphones, an iPod, rhyme book and a pen, homes
Shit, I even got bars in a dead zone
I get it crackin' like chiropractors with neck bones
Shit, I been slept on, way too fucking long now
Studied every fork in the road taking the long route (yes sir)
Mapped it out like cartography, build my bridges strong
And now I know that anyone that stomps at me will tremble in my hands
Run them off my lands, see I always stuck it to the man
Fuck it, cuz I can, bringing out the ruckus is my plan
Puffing on a gram, if you want some trouble I'm your man
Comfortably stand right where I'm at
Soon to be legend, ain't no fighting the facts
About to rise to be a mother fucking titan of rap
Give them pieces of my soul and put my life in a track
In the game where people quick to put that knife in your back
Gotta teach yourself to move like a wolf or get preyed on
Fuck blowing up the real challenge is to stay on
You must be fucking stupid if you take on
This crazy white boy, keep my game face on
And my shades on, and my brim low, and my mind right
Cooking up a sick flow, chewing through my leash, now see the kid go
Because now we here bitch, welcome to the show

Rap Nemesis lyrics - Chris Webby

[Hook]
It's that evil rap nemesis, putting together sentences
Let it be said a bit with the excellent rhetoric
It's that evil rap nemesis, putting together sentences
Verbally a double barrel shotty, leave you blown apart
It's that evil rap nemesis, putting together sentences
Started off small, now I do it for the masses
It's that evil rap, evil rap, rap rap nemesis, putting together sentence...

[Verse 1]
It's that evil rap nemesis second coming of Hendrix
Breaking laws, flipping off Officer Friendly, bitch
I'm a Jedi in the booth, with the power of phantom menaces
Light saber swinging, chopping off your appendages
Generously applying the dopest of rhyming
Open your eyes and see the headlights running over you driving
Over and over and over it on the road that I'm riding
You better open your mind or I'll do it for you (alright)
I'm just a mother fucking psychotic, neurotic, embodiment
Of everything your parents told you not to be probably
Taking shots out the bottle and now Alcoholics Anonymous
Smoking White Rhinoceros with Zach Galifinakis
Dropping hits of acid while rapping that's multi-tasking a lot of shit
Practicing karate kicks on people back in the audience
Popping Klonopin, obviously, shots'll be honestly
You, pull me out the party, I'm the shit ain't no stopping me dude

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
The Governor up out The Walking Dead I'm at your head with an axe
And you mother fuckers better get the cameras ready for action
So listen up, Webby is rapping and Semi is scratching
Shit is bound to cause a deadly reaction
Step to Webby motherfucker you gonna see how unfair feels, repping Fairfield to Norwalk
So damn, real, and you know I stay with the trees like Bear Grylls
Jimmy Hoffa the fucking beat and leave them in landfills
I just stand still, back in the building, spit this shit so cold
You can feel it in your cavity filling
I'm just trying to get some money till it stack to the ceiling
With all these motherfucking tracks that I'm killing
Well you know I got my Super Mario star, I'm untouchable
Fucking Clair Huxtable making her put an oven full of brownies with the hash oil
Then we cook them up until I toss them in my tummy and my brain is dysfunctional

[Hook]

[Outro]
Now-now-now-now-now I-now I-now I do it for the masses
Now I do-do-do it for the masses
Now-now-now-now-now I-now I-now I do it for the masses
Now I do-do-do it...

Down Right lyrics - Chris Webby

[Intro]
Yea, yea. Cause we came to get down right. Yea, yea, yea...

[Hook]
Cause we came to get down right, yea
Eyes low from the weed we roll and I'm in my zone
Cause we came to get down right, yea
Ride slow, with the bass up mo', till the speakers blow
Cause we came to get down right
Damn right, sloppy sloppy drunk
And we came to get down right
Damn right, green up in my blunt
This what it sounds like [x2]
I don't know about you, but I came to get down right

[Verse 1]
Three below, cold on the scene when I freak the flow
Full zip lock, got the weed to roll, thick chick with the double d's leaving o-
Ver my center console in my vehicle, unzip my pants, give my jeans a pull
And even though, I put a little MDMA in your mom's martini (she ain't even know it)
We back to rip it, I'm classic, it's past terrific
I'm smashing these whack rappers, and clash with critics
At the same time, I'm rolling up grass and hit it, and drinking liquor till they telling me I'm past the limit
I'm half smashed and half baked, with accur-ate, flow that's so damn hot I'll evaporate
Let me elaborate, I'm with your chick in the back on my lap doing things that her dad would hate, so get

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Webby up next, success on the front steps
Ticking time bomb, someone dial up Funk Flex
Time to set me off bitch, none left when the dust sets
Got em upset, that I do it this big, white kid that'll never give a fuck less
That'll never pass a drug test, cause I came to get down right man, why you up left?
Hutt one, hutt two, let it go yo, Tony Romo with a bag full of homegrown
And my hat down so low, you can't even tell it's me up in the mother fucking photos, yo (yo)
Tell them wait a minute, when I'm waking up fully faded with a naked chick it's
My memory, and uhh, I forgot your name, what is it?
(Are you kidding?) Sorry girl that's the way I'm livin, so get

[Hook]

[Bridge]
[Piano solo played by Remo the Hitmaker]
This is what is sounds like [x3]
Yea

[Hook]

Followers