Locksmith, Chris Webby - Sure as Can Be lyrics
Christian Webster
[Locksmith, Chris Webby - Sure as Can Be lyrics]
In misery oh thinking about men
Oh yeah yeah
You see when Webby got it get it
I’m gonna leave your body twisting
With these punchlines so fucking hard they
Ask if Rocky did it we’re staying drunk
See me in the lobby sipping
Blacking out like I’m sharing drinks
With Bill Cosby’s bitches
The way I step to the mic
Has gotta be God’s gift
White boy with a light skin bitch
Call me John Smith
Little fat chick just make it drop trick
Got a chastity belt I’ll
Pass you to Locksmith
Middle fingers in the sky till my arms tired
You would think my tonsils made to
Flick the way I talk fire
Say they crediting Webby they all liars
Y’all ain’t going nowhere like barbed
Wired on your car tires
Fricking anxiety medication with Kevin Bacon
Grand Central Station till my
Body is levitating
Kill them with the stars in two ways
What explanation
Just follow the bouncing ball let
Me do this demonstration
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Some rappers hustle their music
And rush lyrics
Other rappers only do music to fuck bitches
Some rappers wait for a hot media topic
Act like they give a fuck and
Write songs so they can profit
Often but it’s often perceived
As being conscious
But it’s nothing more than an
External plot for their pockets
Stop it pussy rapper you
Lacking your label testifies
You say that it’s rap and I
Say it’s a kegel exercise
The nerve of these mother
Fuckers they even utter
Speak or stutter words and indecent
Mothers and creep their mothers
We discovered most of the artists
You harvest for us
Instead of lashing out we let the
Music do it for us
Ignore so you starting to catch me
Whether or not my art reflects me
Yous pretending they pinning
Whether they win they start to sketch me
Even you worked hard on the
Garbage and suffer narcolepsy
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah
Then I could love him oh, I can love him
Yes I could sure as can be
Sure as can be
Oh yeah yeah
You see when Webby got it get it
I’m gonna leave your body twisting
With these punchlines so fucking hard they
Ask if Rocky did it we’re staying drunk
See me in the lobby sipping
Blacking out like I’m sharing drinks
With Bill Cosby’s bitches
The way I step to the mic
Has gotta be God’s gift
White boy with a light skin bitch
Call me John Smith
Little fat chick just make it drop trick
Got a chastity belt I’ll
Pass you to Locksmith
Middle fingers in the sky till my arms tired
You would think my tonsils made to
Flick the way I talk fire
Say they crediting Webby they all liars
Y’all ain’t going nowhere like barbed
Wired on your car tires
Fricking anxiety medication with Kevin Bacon
Grand Central Station till my
Body is levitating
Kill them with the stars in two ways
What explanation
Just follow the bouncing ball let
Me do this demonstration
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Some rappers hustle their music
And rush lyrics
Other rappers only do music to fuck bitches
Some rappers wait for a hot media topic
Act like they give a fuck and
Write songs so they can profit
Often but it’s often perceived
As being conscious
But it’s nothing more than an
External plot for their pockets
Stop it pussy rapper you
Lacking your label testifies
You say that it’s rap and I
Say it’s a kegel exercise
The nerve of these mother
Fuckers they even utter
Speak or stutter words and indecent
Mothers and creep their mothers
We discovered most of the artists
You harvest for us
Instead of lashing out we let the
Music do it for us
Ignore so you starting to catch me
Whether or not my art reflects me
Yous pretending they pinning
Whether they win they start to sketch me
Even you worked hard on the
Garbage and suffer narcolepsy
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Tell me what it is what it ain’t gonna be
Some of y’all hate but it ain’t on me
Nothing ever changed i’m the same old me
If you don’t feel the same then shame on me
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah
Then I could love him oh, I can love him
Yes I could sure as can be
Sure as can be