Testo World Wide Web - Chris Webby
Testo della canzone World Wide Web (Chris Webby), tratta dall'album Next Wednesday
Check the Wi-Fi
Call your internet provider, grab a lighter
Smoke a fire in this bitch until we quite high
Got the canine unit barking at me every
Single motherfucking time that I'ma ride by
Hit the pedal, yell it bye-bye
But if you really want beef, I'ma get on Uber Eats
And, uh, turn this bitch into a Five Guys, tell 'em all "chow down"
A Tyrannosaurus Rex, every time I take
A step, it be followed with a loud sound
Make a motherfucker bow down
When they see my silhouette through tinted windows out around town
I'm a goddamn genius with words over they head like a meme and shit
I'll use a motherfucker's name, never sneak a diss
I'm never scared, Bone Crusher, I don't plead the fifth
Too many checks to count, when I factor in the next amount
Shit, I'ma need to get a tenth account
I'm all over the web, call me Wreck-It Ralph
So if they try to pop up, I'ma X 'em out
But I ain't left the house in days
And I'm still all in your face
On the websites because Web's sight's 20/20, get on Web's page
Bitch, I'm here to stay
Better tell 'em that I'm here now (welcome)
I'm the antidote, one of the rawest on the whole damn Atlantic coast
And somebody beating me up in this motherfucking ring?
That's like Donald Trump winning the Hispanic vote
I'll bum rush the game, say it, motherfucker, what's my name?
Yeah, our cloth isn't cut the same
I'll be spittin' 'til I bust a vein
Now tell me what's my name, what's my name, what?
It's W-W-W dot
Yeah, it's World Wide Web and I'm gunnin' for the top
Said it's W-W-W dot
Yeah, it's World Wide Web, motherfucker, and I'm coming for your spot
Yelling "Fuck your feelings!" (yeah)
Yeah, my aim on point, I don't care what the fuck y'all feeling (yeah)
Yeah, it's World Wide Web
Hit the login
You got motherfucking mail, leave a trail
Of the breadcrumbs everywhere I'm walking
Hansel and Gretel with a touch of heavy
Metal and some late 90's rap in my Walkman
Tell 'em I will never soften
I ran through your place, put hands
On your face like I'm Macaulay Culkin
Listen, I go hard for weeks with dope bars, repeat
Any hater in my way, control-alt-delete
Call me World Wide Web, a Christian Bourdain
All I do is board planes, I rode off the seats
As a business expense, sick when I flip my sentence
I rip shit, spit tremendous
And cock back and swing with the fists of vengeance
Relentless, everybody in attendance gon' see
You don't wanna be fucking with me
Go so fucking deep, you'd think we under the sea
Yeah, I son 'em with the punches that'll buckle your knee
You would think you watching the WWE
Come in your seat, listen, I be coming correct
Throw your chips down and fuck it, I'll double your bet
Shit, I'll run in just to pull up on a rug and I'll jet
I live a wild life, WWF
Yeah, it's WW dot com
World Wide Web in your CD-ROM
I been all up on the internet droppin' bombs
Ever since I was MySpace friends with Tom
I'm about to bum rush the game
Tell me, motherfucker, what's my name?
Yeah, our cloth isn't cut the same
I'll be spittin' 'til I bust a vein
Now tell me what's my name, what's my name, what?
It's W-W-W dot
Yeah, it's World Wide Web and I'm gunnin' for the top
Said it's W-W-W dot
Yeah, it's World Wide Web, motherfucker, and I'm coming for your spot
Yelling "Fuck your feelings!" (yeah)
Yeah, my aim on point, I don't care what the fuck y'all feeling (yeah)
Yeah, it's World Wide Web
Credits
Writer(s): Composer Author Unknown, Christian Webster, Patrick J Farley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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