Yeah, webster
See I've been quiet for a minute, now these bitches think that I lost my sound
Everybody chill, I've been getting my business off the ground
Finally successful, but to you that means I sold out?
Well fuck it so let's remind these people that there's really no doubt
Webby's still the beast that he's always been, and I rap hard
So check my wifi signal yo, I still got mad bars
Whippin' like it's nascar, still no one can touch me
All you pound puppies never stepping to a husky
Repping for Connecticut, stomping on you midgets
Smoking weed, taking pills, fuck it where the whipits?
No one can ever do it like I did it
Spit so big you gotta right click it, scroll down and zip it
I'm Santa Claus's misfit rolling with a thick bitch
Rappers out here ollieing, me I triple kick flip
Murder any beat and leave the listeners to witness
Jason statham ever scared to put my name up on his hit list
I watch these record labels all assemble the full
Rise terrible rappers whose skill levels is questionable
They have a hit single or two and fade into obscurity
Me? I paid my dues that's why these motherfuckers heard of me
Haters getting madder now, wishing I would beat it
All because I fucked they girl on the top of my tempur-pedic
Sprinke sugar on the bible- sweet jesus
Punchline pros leaving rappers with they teeth chipped
Webby been a genius, like I told?
Usuain bolt on the track can't compete with this
The state of hip hop now is straight tragic