Chris Webby - Problem lyrics

[Hook: Big K.R.I.T.] I was coming down, I was switching lanes I do it real big, that'll never change Switchin' old schools, catchin' private planes I'm a beast, I'm a dog, I'm a mothaf**in' problem Hip-Hop, what you know about it? I murder everything, how could you ever doubt it? b**h I do this sh** for real, when you see me shout it I'm a beast, I'm a dog, I'm a mothaf**in' problem [Verse 1: Chris Webby] I'll get your girl's head spinnin' 'til that b**h is dizzy Shot gla** full and I'll tip it quickly Shouts to Big K.R.I.T. in Mississippi On my hustle, word to Nipsey Back here to rip beats, that's what it is see Gone for a second but I'm back, did you miss me? Bomb on a record with the sack of the piff, B Bomb any record when I snap and it hits me You'll get chewed like a frisbee I'm a rottweiler b**h and my leash isn't with me I need a priest to forgive me For the sins I commit from CT to Sydney Jesus, indeed a psychopath And not a goddamn soul could write this fast Not a damn soul know how to write this track Shuttin' sh** down 'til the lights go black k** 'em with subliminals, unhittable An original criminal with the syllables f** a visual, I'm invisible 10-4: Situation Critical R-R-Roger that, I b-b-b-body tracks So all these hatin' copycats can s** my dick and swallow that [Hook] [Verse 2: Big K.R.I.T.] It's young Krizzle and I'm certified Pull up in your lane with the b**h you came with 'fore you get inside Built tight like a motherf**in' cutla** on point With the D's and the window tint Wood on deck with the chrome on rim Piled up twice I ain't tripping on nothing b**h, you know what this is Ain't got time to waste Rather not grind the brakes Rather just take my bread - get pounds of cake Get a b**h down to shake, spring up in over head Plot like chess, grind like skaters Bring a b**h down like Garcia Y Vega Must be fine and surround me with paper League of my own, motherf** your majors Now I'm back on track Dark with the flow, black on black Twenty-four beat, I shat on that Suburb with the urgin' to hear me rap Still get love in the hearts of trap Still hit the Bank and they give me dap See wherever Big K.R.I.T. been that day sh** he thought Sugar Ray [Hook] [Verse 3: Chris Webby] Rollin' in ready to fight and throw fists I had a bad day and I'm pissed so don't trip You wanna get hit? Then keep runnin' your lip Because I got a short fuse and it's already lit About to flip if you say another word to me Not k**in' a beat doesn't occur to me Not true if they say they never heard of me If you want me to stop, you better murder me South to the North, holla back CT love, I got your back White boy's here and I rock a rap Rock my brim low and roll that gra** So cinematic when I rock a beat Cameras on, and they all on me With my dude from the South K-R-I-T If they steppin' in the way then R-I-P Spittin' heavy dough Need that fire? Let me know That's why your girl's Facebook status is a Webby quote I got 'em, ain't nobody big enough to block 'em This isn't algebra baby, but I'm a f**in' problem [Hook]