Chris Webby - Certified lyrics

I don't have a Master's or Bachelor's, just a certificate sayin' "Certified Rapper", fresh, fly, and dapper Cracker with cheese, and Connecticut steez, b**h I'm cooler than a summertime breeze, hoe please In my jeans two cahones you better respect, you couldn't get me with a net I'm the deadliest catch The record labels ever seen, lettin' off steam, sippin' lean, American jumpin' bean I'm a fiend for the opposite s**, when I put your feet up by your neck, baby make us both sweat Yes, I'm a damn dog like a Labrador, everyday I'm baggin' who*es, f** you think I'm rappin' for? And so what I be comin' out of Connecticut? I'm sick of rappers gettin' big with no prerequisites I be certified check the rap sheet, while other kids were math geeks and athletes, I was a rap freak 'Cause you know that I'm about to get it poppin' no start bu*ton for you, there's no option Sippin' a concoction, I'm no boy from Boston, the tristates ridin' with me, and stay rockin' Never spit a flow that you won't feel, givin' you the news, f**in' April O'Neill Got a Casey Jones flow, baby you can never doubt me, ten foot dick, balls bigger than Lebowski [Chorus:] b**h I'm certified whatchu think about that? Cause' half these cats nowadays can't even rap Baby I be certified, this is just a fact, freestyle, written, whatever it's all crack. Baby I be certified, goin' to the top, cause' I can actually spit this ain't no pop Baby I be certified, make the crowd rock and do it all out of my love for this hip hop Baby I be certified Be certified, yes I be certified so if you comin' with the beef, then I'll be servin' fries Murder guys with the style I run, from here to kingdom come and then some son (what?) Professor Plum with the candle stick, k**in' beats yo I'm on my Charles Manson sh** Hardcore, yo they softer than the Hanson clique, get buns everyday another random chick Got my own lingo, never understanding others, roll deep with a muthaf**in' band of brothers So flawless you'll be thinkin' "Uh, can he stutter? ", nah not this slick-tongued panty-stuffer You'd think Einstein lived in my house, get brains all day cause that's what wisdom's about Summer Sanders s**ed my dick until I Figured It Out, and then I sent her back to Nick with my kids in her mouth 'Cause you know I get it done d-d-done-d-done over any beat, just give me any one w-w-one-w-one With styles vicious got you wanna f**in' run-r-run, cause there's a lot of money, all I want is suh-s-suh-s-suh-s-suh-s-some And I'm back-b-back givin' hip hop somethin' that it lack-l-lacks, a little creativity up on the tra-tr-track Webby's certified no debatin' that-th-that-th-that-th-that [Chorus] Baby I be certified, certified, certified