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letra de no regrets - chris webby

[verse 1:]
i’m the monster out of cloverfield, so for real
f-cked up, i don’t even know how sober feels
smother rash, a paul wall with a fabric wash cloth
that i previously used to wipe my -ss and b-lls off
i’m just a dope rapper in cl-ss chasing a math teacher
with a protractor and copy the notes after
so hot you think i freakin’ sleep on a burner
warm beef, i force feed a vegan a burger
slaughter on the mic, i don’t need a reason for murder
so a.d.h.d, that at least i need a concerta
it’s chris webby, brain-dead but still deadly
my sh-t’s heavy, pop pills and twist heddies
so kick and slap me b-tch, i take it like a m-s-ch-st
then turn around and smack you with the mic that you be rapppin’ with
’cause i’m the opposite of pacifist, choke a hoe, slap a b-tch
then leave the room laughing after it like what

[chorus:]
for myself, i have no regrets
time has taken what it soon forgets
a gambler’s paradise in short vignettes

[verse 2:]
i get up on the beat and i blaze the mic quickly
a serial killer taking blades to rice krispies
an arabic terrorist in america, if you wanna get at this
(woof!) i’m triple dog daring, yah
i’m a character like mickey, donald, goofey, wren
and sippy, snoopy, captain planet, b-tch you best salute me
i’m a loopy looney-tunes with screws-loose, super soaking dudes deuce
i’m michael vick with blues clues
i’m a motherf-ckin’ monster, man
get it poppin’ like the guns playing contra, man
contraband, stuck in my pipes and let me light it
got a dark p-ssenger like dexter, why fight it
lightsaber, swipe it like qui-gon-jin
(skurr!) burning rubber ’til i ride on rims
rims on the side, got a sack to spark
i’m cold-blooded, you can find me in jur-ssic park
like what

[chorus:]
i sit alone and hear the sparrow sing
no way of knowing what tomorrow brings
i leave my solitude upon his wings

[verse 3:]
my wisdom exceeds all you dumb mc’s
i’m young too, sh-t, i’ve been rappin’ since three
since the youngest jonas brother was in his mother’s uterus
and miley cyrus in diapers, b-tch i ain’t new to this
i’m what you get when you mix alcohol with nicotine
aderall, ecstasy, marijuana and creatine
acid, perkicette, vicodin and ambien
shrooms, mdma and toss a xany in
then you got me, mind clinically dumb and
i can count my brain cells with one hand
but i drop sick bars, homie, so you gotta look
b-tch, i be nicer with the ink than an octopus
i’m that villain out the comic book creepin’
crawling out the flames like a demon, breathin’
flames out my mouth so n-body could touch me
i’m a mix of buffalo bill with bundy, trust me

[chorus:]
a poet’s pleasure is to hear in time
the painter pictures what he’s left behind
i close my eyes and it all leaves my mind

- chris webby

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