Mission Statement

[Intro]:

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