Chris Webby - Fuckin Problem lyrics

rate me

Bars are still on me man, you know

I just keep going, ct where you at,

Yeah, it’s like that

See I’m a beast, always have been

Always will be

Hungry, a 7 course meal couldn’t fill me

Wanna come and step to the flowin

Then fucker feel free

I could make a lyricist look like lil b

Been in the game for a minute under your radar

Building my momentum for the moment that I’ll take charge

My reflection’s still the same like spelling racecar

Now I’ve just come far enough to overcome the race card

Let me break it off toppa

Freestyling to your chick, yeah take it off mama

I’m a profession ass

Showing you who really hotter

Got a smaller chance at beating me

Then finding Jimmy Hoffa

Got a lotta people rolling with me, how is it a shocker

That I made it to the top

Spitting out this molten lava

Now I’m frying rappers up just like some calamari

Sorry, I’m chewing any beat like a piranha

With a weed up in my paper or up in a Philly, fuck it

Till I’m on the beach with a marguerite like Jimmy Buffet

I’ll be spittin these flows

Time to really get it man

Snapping like a gorilla, wearing a silly band

Like a tattoeed grizzly

Sick, representing raccoon city

Playing these shows then I smash two biddies

Blazing these flows till I stack two milli

Came up in the game like a certified hustler

Pedal to the metal till I’m burning my muffler

Fuck ya, everyday I stay smoking

My jar is ajar, yeah I keep that shit open

Potent, they can’t measure up I’m too tall,

Yo choke em, murder on the mic and now they all know

Frozen, spit is so cold that I cause snow

You gonn need a sweater and beanie like Waldo

Motherfucker I am that dude

Who else could pull off these super Mario tattoos?

I got these other rappers salty, like cashews

Cause I’m bad news for my competition, that’s true

Coming through my dude, I live limitless

Sick, achoo, I proved I spot rigorous

Hating on me while I bruise your chick’s clitoris

And she was into it

And I was into her, get it bitch?

Kid Icarus, flying through the clouds

With a bottle full of liquor

And a pocket full of loud

Go go across the country and I’m rocking every crowd

I’m a dog, 100 deeds of Eddie McDowd

And I’ma spit my damn flows

Suburban commando, call me Rambo, back pack on like Banjo

Kazooie, truly in charge like Soprano

A Jax at the head of the table, of SAMCRO

My mind wanders while I’m writing a freeverse

And this weed only makes my a.d.d. worse

But I’m coming with the bars,

Let a beast work

That’s why your little sister got a webby t-shirt

Rock it, dope hip-hop it

Full speed with it and I never plan on stoppin’

Italiano on the mic, so you’ll be fuckin’ mobbin’

All I do is murder beats, I got a fuckin’ problem.

Thanks to Greg for correcting these lyrics