[Intro]
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Yeeeeaaah, Webby
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[Hook]
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I've been going hard, all these years been on the low
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Used to show up to the spot and they would stop me at the door
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Now my name is hot so they be acting like they know
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And they leading my right through those velvet ropes
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Now I got them saying, aww naww, who the hell let Webby in
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Aww naww, who the hell let Webby in
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Aww naww, so run and tell your friends
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It's time to get it started mother fucker, let the games begin
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[Verse 1]
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Oh hello, hi there, back in the ring, never fight fair
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I swear, shades on tint, never seeing through my eye-wear
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No button down but I'm sleeved up, so many shows and I fly there
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And my fans be getting them tickets quicker than pissing in public in Times Square
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That nightmare on your street, stay with the hash like corned beef
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And I light it up and I breathe it and my blunt be full of that four leaf
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We killing this and I'm on my grind, running shit I got sore feet
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24 deep on my tour bus, rolling right out to the floor seats
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I'm blowing up what are you doing, sitting at home and YouTubing
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Hating on me from a laptop, but these type of people I'm used to em
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You ain't doing shit but smoking weed, watching porn, got no degree
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You're a disappointment and blame everybody else that you never got where you hoped to be
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See I worked for it, you sat back, I grinded out while you relaxed
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And now you like; "Fuck Webby man, yo, I should be where he's at, wait is that him, did he just cut the line, wait where's Denise at?"
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But I ain't gotta say nothing back, cause I got your girlfriend on my lap
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[Hook]
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[Verse 2]
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Somebody turn my mic on, throw in that beat I could ride on
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Shut up and listen cause fuck it I'm spitting so cold blooded, python
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Connecticut over to Saigon, looking at me as if I am an icon
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Getting that dough like I started with Tae-Kwon
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Drinking this gin they be calling me Qui-Gon
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Started out in that small time, mixtapes in the trunk of the car that I was driving in
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That Altima, with back bumper hanging off the side, people honking at me (get off the road!)
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Getting pulled over so often I'd have my registration at all times, hanging out my window like
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Sorry guy, I know I was speeding, I'm fucking high, but my plates are good and I'm fucking dry
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Smoked all my weed on my way down here, we ain't got no charges? Fuck you, bye
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Peel off in that shit box, so kick rocks, I'm out of here
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Then head back to my parents house and get drunk until I run out of beer
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But that was then, now I'm living differently
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The clubs that would always turn me away, now they all let me in for free
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The girls that used to blow me off, now they all on their friggin' knees
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Still blowing me off, only difference? Now it's literally
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[Hook]
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-----------------
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Aww Naww
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Chris Webby |