Chris Webby - Goin' Down pe Lyrkit

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Goin' Down

Goin' Down

(album: The Under Classmen - 2010)

Yeah, Webby (haha)
Uh uh
(All the right friends in all the wrong places)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're goin')
We going we going we going (yeah, we're going down)

[Verse 1:]
We going down, town to town the whole court
East to west side, got fan support
I serve 'em with the music like a delicatessen
What will I do next, got Connecticut guessing
Leave a hell of an impression, my words are my weapons
Now that my name's stretching they starting to feel threatened
I'm rowdy, I'm rough around the edges and I'm reckless
Rock mics from New York, Philly to Texas
Eat rappers for breakfast, murder a beat
Got peoples from Florida to Old Orchard Beach
Up north, but of course I show up with a team
Roll deep like e-pills on submarines
Blow up scene, half and half I need cream (or C.R.E.A.M.?)
So I can add some thickness to the pockets of my jeans
One day I'll be on that TV screen
But until then I'm chilling, just living the dream like

(All the right friends in all the wrong places)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're goin')
We going we going we going (yeah, we're going down)

[Verse 2:]
We going down like a light switch, we on that hype shit
Middle fingers aren't concerned about politeness
Rip mics righteous, who could not like this
Eagle in the sky while you birds still flightless
Do nothing but travel, flowing 'n' such
Got girls across the east side blowing me up (bling bling)
They all got Chris Webby in the tape deck
Jersey Shore to my mama cita in (Great Neck?)
Sorority girls from Hofstra to Adelphi
Down in L.I. they bumping that Webb Y
And I'll make sure that they all are pretty
Got a Barbie bitty down in (Gardner City?)
I guess I got hoes in different area codes
CT two-oh-three to eight-six-oh
And how could I complain about getting laid off of mixtapes
Even though I probably got kids in like six states

(All the right friends in all the wrong places)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're goin')
We going we going we going (yeah, we're going down)

[Verse 3:]
We going down like the temperature in winter
A skinny white boy inked up, no printer
CT Simba, knock 'em down yelling out "Timber! "
For those who support all of my ninja
That's what it is, I'm here to make it pop off
Lyrical hot sauce too dirty to wash off
I'm a boss with suburban swag
Spitting since I had a fucking pet hermit crab
I'm burning bags, turn in a swerving cab
To the school of hard knocks (capitalize that?) where I learned to brag
And when we roll up to show our face
Bitch I'm walking in the door like I own the place
Just gimme one mic, I'm the dopest look
How to Be a White Rapper I wrote the book
And that's just how it is, and that's just how it be
So keep doing you, everybody loving me

Yeah
(All the right friends in all the wrong places)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're goin')
We going we going we going (yeah, we're going down)
(All the right friends in all the wrong places)
Eh eh eh ehm, yeah, Webby
(Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're goin')
We going we going we going (yeah, we're going down)
We going down
Underclassman, Chris Webby, CT, holla

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