So Fresh

Webby hit them in the head with it, until they lose they lose their motor skills

Constantly confronting my lyricism and flowing ill

Now they know the deal, crushing shit, clover field

Rappers need to get their weight up cause they’re looking Jonah Hill

Compose the real, there ain’t no slim fast here

And Poland Spring is what I bring, cause I can spit that clear

Shout to Jude and Lord Sear, all out to their speakers

Making real rap music, they singing with Justin Bieber

It’s a shame, everyone on the radio sound the same

One more person rhyming model with bottle I go insane

All these bullshit club records with they autotune and dance moves

Everybody selling now, but that’s the shit I can’t do

What up P, Queens to CT

Let me show ‘em how we do it in the 203

Shout to apathy any other real people doing it

My chips are all in, move or lose it for the music, yeah

Bowser's back chillin' where the sour's at

Went against the odds and rose above and shit, I’m proud of that

Kicking flows on my tekken shit

Rapping superpower stronger than the X man, bitch, yeah (GANGSTA)

Oh, you shook once you fall back

Fight night, fall, get your jaw cracked

We keep it infamous, and making punk rappers dig a ditch and bury their careers

Cause these rap game, we’re built for this!

Rapping out of control, these rappers is slow

I got the permanent flow, I’m stuck in this zone

I’m so fresh, so fresh, so fresh, so fresh

I keep it so fresh, so fresh, so fresh, so fresh

Rapping out of control, these rappers is slow

I got the permanent flow, I’m stuck in this zone

I’m so fresh, so fresh, so fresh, so fresh

I keep you so fresh, so fresh, so fresh, so fresh

Rap God, my balls are that hard

My blood is that frosty, cold is up north

In the mountains and college doing sex on a bar

Like two hoodies on, it’s freezing, I’m charged

My adrenaline pumping, and it’s keeping me warm

I got so many plans in my head, it’s keeping me going

Cause I know the other side of these barb wire fencing

It’s a whole world out there for me to just dig in

And eat like a runaway slave

These cotton picking bitches, trying to get me for my pay

Listen, I am not the idiot nigga, I am not the ho

I kill your perm though, and let the third go

When a rapper try to stunt on me

Yo, Webby, get ‘em, School these youngins' who the fuck I be (I got you)

You can’t put pimp in a box

You can pigeonhole me, I do what I want

MC is with fat laces, sneaker king bitch, nice pair of Asics

While you at home, plugged it to the Matrix

Me and C-Web get bread in real life, take a pic

Cause I stay PIF and they need to go shopping when they see my fresh

It’s like this nig, it’s like that rat

None of ya’ll better ever try to act like you that ill

When ya'll gonna learn

Everybody ain't got it

Please, check our résumés

Webby, yeah my nigga

Aye yo my nigga J-Cash told me

Fuck a intro

It's betta to tell um to fuck off at the end of the song

So fuck off, nigga

Bitch ass niggas

Broke ass rappers

Wanna-be celebrities

But you'll never be nothin' like Chris Webby and Dom P

Uhh, it's like that nigga