So keep on running, you bitches keep on running,
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Mother fuckers out there are scared, so keep on running,
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But you know I¡¯m gonna find you like it¡¯s hide n seek.
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Webby off the hook like where your house phone at,
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Then I¡¯m bouncing back, double click and get your mouse attached,
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High with a pound of grass, it¡¯s that CT, dude, back to spit,
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World game so accurate, last to quit.
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First star, got a soldier¡¯s heart back to spark with a bag of piff.
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So choke a hoe and smack a bitch,
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¡®cause I don¡¯t give a motherfuck, be mad at this,
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I still be right here rapping shit,
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Sag my pants and I grab my dick,
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Scandalous, cancerous, ¡®cause the flow too sick, can¡¯t handle that.
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Man of myth, I can¡¯t answer this, but everybody hearing this ran it back.
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Tracks on tracks on tracks, like the Pro Tool session stack,
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Spitting it ill with a vision to kill, any mother fucker that will step in my path, fact.
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That¡¯s just how Webby be flowing, doper than ever,
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Hoping to sever the heads of my enemies, leaving their face on the ground,
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Then I¡¯ll tell ¡®em hold it together.
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Sober? Never. Rarely at most, hitting that blunt ¡®till it¡¯s barely a roach,
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But I¡¯m MVP in the whole Northeast, pass me the rock and I¡¯ll carry it coach.
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Brag and boast, yeah, I¡¯m nice. But shit, you motherfuckers all knew that, right?
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See what¡¯s good when I grab that mic, polar flow, cold as ice.
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So keep on running, you bitches keep on running,
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Mother fuckers out there are scared, so keep on running,
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But you know I¡¯m gonna find you like it¡¯s hide n seek.
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Bitch, I¡¯m gonna find you like it¡¯s hide n seek, grinding, y¡¯all just grind your teeth.
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Listen to and follow my directions like when Simon speaks
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Simon says ¡°go fuck yourself¡± , Webby spit a flow that be tough as hell
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In a gunfight with a knife out and I¡¯m ducking shells like Mario Kart.
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So tell everybody that you know that I¡¯m back, bitch,
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Straight jacket with a Xanax tablet and wash it down with the Drano that¡¯s in the back of my cabinet.
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This is madness, no, this is Sparta, who ripping it harder?
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Pick it apart with my butcher knife for these pigs to the slaughter.
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Oh, my God, let¡¯s go retarded, politically incorrect with it,
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So sick that I got ¡®em puking and spitting up like The Exorcist.
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I¡¯m Maximus, mixed with a little Spartacus, too,
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And the mic is like my sword I use for carving in poo.
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So what that means is when I¡¯m in the booth I¡¯m harder than you,
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So keep on running, mother fucker, ¡®cause I¡¯m charging for you.
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You see my time is now, your time is not,
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All I do is grind a lot, let me count to ten and now you should go find a hiding spot.
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So keep on running, you bitches keep on running,
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Mother fuckers out there are scared, so keep on running,
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But you know I¡¯m gonna find you like it¡¯s hide n seek.
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So keep on running, you bitches keep on running,
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Mother fuckers out there are scared, so keep on running,
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But you know I¡¯m gonna find you like it¡¯s hide n seek.
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-----------------
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Hide N Seek
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Chris Webby |