Artist: Chris Webby
Album:  Best in the Burbs (Mixtape)
Song:   Get Loose
Typed by: AZ Lyrics

Yeah, haha. It's Chris Webby. Yeah
Static on the beat
Baby I get loose
I get loose
You know what I mean?
I'm feelin' good
Real good
Uh huh, yeah. Yeah

It's that human dictionary
Webby's always rapping A to Z
Never smart to play with me
The flow is never A to G [?]
My style is indescribable
So nobody can label me
Get loose with a bottle of goose
Rollin' an eighth of weed

Step to me
Then I'm prepared for war
'Cause I'm a ninja
So you know I'm down to carry a sword
In the lead
So my competitors stare at the score
While I'll be gettin' high like Chewbacca
And Harrison Ford

Immature
Yeah, sure
But I spit that heat
Molten lava off the top
Baby, Dante's peak
I just tighten up my sneaks
And I stomp that beat
Build a butcher
Don't even know if you want that beef

I get loose like the crotch of my jeans
So complex when I rap
Can't even tell what a lot of it means
But I be gettin' to the top
By any possible means
With that audio crack rock
I got for the fiend

I get loose
In the booth
And I'm at it again
So get ready for the show
Baby gather your friends
It's that foul mouth white boy
Back to offend
Everybody that I can
Where's my pad and a pen?
I get loose
With the flow
Never air to my words
CT on my back
And I'm reppin' for sure
Anybody and everybody can tell
It's my turn
So I'm a show these people why Webby's
The best in the burbs

I roll the dice like Jumanji
No Robin Williams
But I'll have a pack of animals
Stampeding through your lobby
I'm the son of Zeus
Webby spit it godly
I'm a good fella
Play the roll of Tommy

With a couple of zannies
In my system
And a Callanie [?]
I'll be wallin' out of control
I fuckin' dare you to stop me

I'm edgier
Than complicated origami
Throwin' fists
I'm the opposite of Gandhi
Never be wack
I'm head of the pack
I'm leveling tracks
Etc, you step in the ring
I'm sending you back

You'll be lucky if you leave
And then your head is attached
When I attack the nervous system
With these venemous tracks
Stay loose with the laces on my boots
Living proof
That hip-hop ain't dead
It evolved to something new
So call the army
And bring out the damn tanks
'Cause that's all she wrote
Diary of Anne Frank

I get loose
In the booth
And I'm at it again
So get ready for the show
Baby gather your friends
It's that foul mouth white boy
Back to offend
Everybody that I can
Where's my pad and a pen?
I get loose
With the flow
Never air to my words
CT on my back
And I'm reppin' for sure
Anybody and everybody can tell
It's my turn
So I'm a show these people why Webby's
The best in the burbs
Yeah