Testo Webby's Lab 2 - Chris Webby
Testo della canzone Webby's Lab 2 (Chris Webby), tratta dall'album Webster's Laboratory II
Yeah, I was stuck inside my fucking studio pacing
Stressin' and second guessin' with all the music I'm making
Reassessing who I choose to put faith in
And re-examining who really has a say
In all these moves that I'm making
Stepped away for a minute, made a new situation
Now it's back to the basics, I know you have been waiting
'Cause see it ain't about the numbers or the views or rotations
I'm hungry, those in my way should get to funeral arranging
I'll bruise 'em, I'll scrape 'em, I'll chew 'em, I'll break 'em
And get a skewer, filet 'em like food on my plate
And throw what's left in the stew I was makin'
I'm patient, I'm calm and I'm cool, I'm just sayin'
The person that you see when you Google my name
With those stupid photo shoots from like 2008
With the early interviews of me saying some super outdated
Chemically fueled ludicrous statements
Was just a kid who lacked guidance up in the public eye
But I'm all grown up now, so fuck it, right?
Let's get back to raisin' hell up again
And talkin' shit about these rappers 'cause I'm better than them
Time to give 'em all a show so go assemble your friends
We in the lab like it's 2011 again
The hands on the clock's jumpin' but dammit I'm not bluffin'
It's time to make shit get outta hand like I dropped something
Won't stop nothin', I'm back bitch, the bandicoot of dat pit
With my lab kit and a bottle ready to crash shit
Oh you think that's it?
Huh, not even close motherfucker
Check
Rockin' crowds is what I love to do, adrenaline is pumpin' through
My body, sendin' dopamine levels right through the fuckin' roof
Serotonin rushin' too, more than any drug could do
Music's like my antidepressant, this shit ain't nothing new
Without it I'd be caught up in stress, an alcoholic, a mess
I don't just do this 'cause it offers a check
'Cause I don't need a label office, a jet or a crib in the hills
Or a Lamborghini and jewelry all on my neck
But I'm sick of fallin' in debt with
This Indian guy from American Express
Puttin' in this call to collect
But I see being pushed to the brink as a test
And honestly, being broke really seems to bring out my best
I feel like I'm locked inside a fuckin' cage with a pen
Being pushed to the point that I hate this game that I'm in
Surrounded by these people who just like to fake and pretend
So they ask, "If that's the case, why you ain't famous as them?"
I don't know, but just let me get my midnight toast
Hip-hop's dead like Nas said and it's this I quote
I'm feelin' like I'm out the loop and it's an inside joke
"Wait, wait, you're actually serious? You think this guy's dope?"
So I'll keep givin' my lectures, Professor Webster is back
In my mask, jacket and gloves, cookin' tracks in the desert
I'm back and I'm better, actin' erratic, dramatic and clever
'Cause I'm still up in the fuckin' lab like Dexter
Five years later
We back up in the laboratory motherfucker
Welcome to the mixtape
Yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Composer Author Unknown, Christian Webster
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