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W.E.B.
Count Bass D
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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It ain't your lucky day, no beat or verse specials
The one legged tap dancer who's name is the devil
Plotting my demise before I knew what was happening
Heartbroken, we fell out, Damar Hamlin
Straight to the lab, sharpening my sampling
Now they asking, who died and left you king?
Count not Charles you a junior like Carl's
Best be aware for who the lion snarls
Or beat feet when you see warm bear scat
Selfish protagonist, didn't even save the cat
Matta fact where the money at? What you think this is?
Uncle Sam's a partner, I want mine he want his
Your ghostwriter needs a editor, better to catch a predatory creditor
Thats lending your bread pretending to
Have your best interest, unethical rates
You're more interested in DMs and Tinder dates
Bid you adieu like skinny Adele
Who's compelled to squeeze wide feet in Gazelles
She never cared cause he couldn't grow a Philly beard
Up and disappeared, and I think that's weird
Ceased to exist like mountains in Kansas
Searched for a clue, even canvassed the campus
Left empty handed, damn near stranded
The brother thought for sure that he had the advantage
Schlong long like a Fela Kuti song
Couldn't figure out what the hell went wrong
Blown away by her grace and poise
But she was W.E.B - she don't do boys
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