Chris Webby - Burn lyrics

[Intro: Chris Webby] Yeah [Verse 1: Chris Webby] You can spot a fire by watching the Spotifiers They just press play on my sh*t and they start a fire Ride 'til I die, 'til there's no groove left on the tires Chillin' at home like umpires While I write my next sh*t, lay it down and flex it From the booth to the marketplace let the checks hit Treating every song like an individual investment Underground king of my coast, eatin' shellfish With a bad b*tch, 'cause we all gon' die So this lifе I got, I live right You can all try, but can't outsmart me, 'cause my Intеllectual's on the level of A.I. I learn by defeat, check the battling scars b*tch, most of you can't even step to half of my bars You fu*king pussy, run your mouth while you actin' all hard You probably wear your rubber gloves and face mask in the car With your windows rolled up, trying not to get sick But sh*t, I been sick for years, my therapist Told me if we wrote down all my problems, it'd be a list So long even Santa Claus couldn't check this Let alone check it twice, fu*k naughty and nice I'm so bad, having coal in my stocking's a way of life Kerosene in one hand while the other got a light Hear a— then I'm calling it a night, Webby [Chorus: Chris Webby & Locksmith] Uh, yeah, we all gon' die Live like the roof's on fire and we yelling out "Burn, motherfu*ker, burn, motherfu*ker, burn Burn, motherfu*ker, burn," yeah Uh, yeah, we all gon' die Live like the roof's on fire and we yelling out "Burn, motherfu*ker, burn, motherfu*ker, burn (Yo) Burn, motherfu*ker, burn" (fu*k 'em, let 'em conspire) [Verse 2: Locksmith] See, I can spot a liar by watching his spot expire I can spit a verse and kill rappers with rapid fire Rap deniers won't acknowledge my prowess, don't try to route us Route that I'm on based on songs, now who's the loudest? Allow me to explain my versatility origins I came up with pimps and rebels fighting the war we in Normally I'm ignoring the silly rappers with corneums I can smell the smoke 'cause my hood was a crematorium This is like a memoriam for what I used to be So when I light the match, you pussies better use your feet All that's left is charred up bodies as far as you can see If you can see, then I might show mercy, don't try to divert me fu*k your politics and opinion, you just a minion Everything you ever mention you heard on a cable network A carefully crafted timeline and algorithm That's only feeding you bias, you don't believe me, just try it 'Cause everything I built, see I built from the ground up Come around us, like you been sippin' that Roundup Killin' off you weeds as I weave in-between the sound I'm astounded how you su*kas keep b*tchin, like, how come? Douse you with accelerant, what you think is irrelevant Beating around the bush 'cause you scared to address the elephant Sittin' in the room while I'm sh*ttin' inside your tomb Somebody pass me a match, click, boom [Chorus: Chris Webby] Uh, yeah, we all gon' die Live like the roof's on fire and we yelling out "Burn, motherfu*ker, burn, motherfu*ker, burn Burn, motherfu*ker, burn," yeah Uh, yeah, we all gon' die Live like the roof's on fire and we yelling out "Burn, motherfu*ker, burn, motherfu*ker, burn Burn, motherfu*ker, burn" [Verse 3: Apathy] Pass me the flamethrower, match in the gas and it's game over Molotov co*ktails out of the Range Rover Half of my brain smolder, with rap, I'm a chain smoker A dragon who take over, make crack from the baking soda Gas stove veteran, cheffin' up the medicine But never get the credit, I'm more Tesla than Edison All about the Benjamins and what I can invest it in After the dough, turning big bucks into venison Replicate it, devastate it, place you on the ventilator Diss you on the record and write your name in the metadata Meditative state of an out of body experience Light your body on fire, get buried in Siberian Cemeteries get eerie when spirits started appearing In spots I spit lyrics in, raps you'll never hear again Better give love or get sent to Heaven above Or get shredded, fed to the furnace like Freddy's sweater and glove [Chorus: Chris Webby] Uh, yeah, we all gon' die Live like the roof's on fire and we yelling out "Burn, motherfu*ker, burn, motherfu*ker, burn Burn, motherfu*ker, burn," yeah Uh, yeah, we all gon' die Live like the roof's on fire and we yelling out "Burn, motherfu*ker, burn, motherfu*ker, burn Burn, motherfu*ker, burn"