Master of the Ceremony

Webby goin' hard you can tell when I drop a line
It's like I've had my lyrics genetically modified
Sap givin' me beats is like feedin' a mogwai, after twelve o' clock on the dot
'Cause I rap like I'm bout to stuff you and your squad into sarcophagi
Oh my God am I, blackin' out again like I'm hangin' out with that Cosby guy?
Killin' rappers as easy as swattin' flies, with that old school vibe, it's just like I've been fossilized
Murder shit, like they legalize the Purge when I'm rappin'
They chokin' like they havin' some kind of allergic reaction
See I'm nervously scratchin' on they epidermis and that's when I know I'll leave a crime scene, get the surgical napkins
Hackin', slashin', cuttin', leavin' your mufuckin' head sufferin' from about twenty different concussions
Every time I try to get my life together, then the fans be like, "Man, where the crazy Webby, yo, I like him better"
So at last I'll give the people what they've asked for
Just get my weed, whisky, see them pills there? Grab four
Get my razor blade, I'll roll up twenty in my glass RooR
Meet me at the back door, tell them that I'm back, whore
I'm back, fuckers, huh, let's go.

I could never be what you want me to be
Could never visualize what you want me to see
All I've ever known is that I'ma do me
A true MC, yeah I'm the master of the ceremony
Yeah I'm the master of the ceremony

Yeah I'm the master of the ceremony

Yeah Web, talk that shit
Talk that shit, we don't let up on these fuckers

A new rap song with Miley Cyrus? Sorry I don't buy it
This is Hip-Hop, and now we all fuckin' surrounded by this
Rap, pop, and these bottles, and twerkin' it right on my dick
So fuckin' numb is the culture, we're like, "I kinda like it..."
That ain't the shit you bump by yourself, get inspired by it
Ain't the shit that makes you start up a movement, incite a riot
And give a voice to the people who need to be blindly guided
And see somebody to follow, so I'll be their Iron Giant
To help 'em forget their problems, at least for a fuckin' moment
When they throw them beats on and I speak to 'em and console 'em
Got fans, just know that like Caesar you could control 'em
Now what would y'all do with a legion of fuckin' Romans
Us is entertainers, the ones with a chance to rhyme
Gotta give these people something authentic to stand behind
These rapper say they care, but that's only on camera time
Then they go right back to rappin' 'bout strippers
And damn it I'm, fuckin' sick of all this stackin' money, spendin' money, throwin' money
Shit it's a recession, most these listeners are owin' money

Cash Money, Young Money, his money, her money
But chances are they ain't never talkin' 'bout your money
Fuck money, know what I mean? This real Hip-Hop shit right here

I could never be what you want me to be
Could never visualize what you want me to see
All I've ever known is that I'ma do me
A true MC, yeah I'm the master of the ceremony
Yeah I'm the master of the ceremony
Yeah I'm the master of the ceremony
Yeah I'm the master of the ceremony



Credits
Writer(s): Christian Webster, Jonathan King
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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