| You’ve got mail
|
| Woo, check the WiFi
|
| Call your internet provider, grab a lighter
|
| Smoke a fire in this bitch until we quite high
|
| Got the K-9 unit barking at me every single motherfucking time that I’ma ride by
|
| Yeah, hit the pedal yelling «Bye bye!»
|
| But if y’all really want beef, I’ma get on Uber Eats
|
| Turn this bitch into a Five Guys,
|
| tell 'em I’ll chow down
|
| A tyrannosaurus rex every time I take a step
|
| It be followed by a loud sound
|
| Make a motherfucker bow down
|
| When they see my silhouette through tinted windows at Around Town
|
| I’m a goddamn genius
|
| The word’s over their head like a meme and shit
|
| I’ll use a motherfucker’s name, never sneak a diss
|
| I’m never scared, bone crusher, I don’t plead the fifth
|
| Too many checks to count
|
| When I factor in the next amount?
|
| Shit I’ma need to get a tenth account
|
| I’m all over the web, call me Wreck-it-Ralph
|
| So if they try’na pop up I’ma X them out
|
| But I ain’t left the house in days
|
| And I’m still all in your face
|
| On a website, because Web’s sight is 20/20 get on Web’s page
|
| Bitch, I’m here to stay
|
| Better tell them that I’m here now
|
| I’m the antidote
|
| One of the rawest on the whole damn Atlantic coast
|
| And somebody beating me up in this motherfucking ring
|
| That’s like Donald Trump winning the Hispanic vote
|
| I’ll bum rush the game
|
| Saying «Motherfucker, what’s my name?»
|
| Yeah, cloth isn’t cut the same
|
| I’ll be spitting 'til I bust a vein
|
| Now tell me what’s my name?
|
| What’s my name? |
| What?
|
| It’s W, W, W, dot
|
| It’s worldwide web and I’m gunning for the top
|
| It’s W, W, W, dot
|
| Yeah, it’s worldwide web, motherfucker, and I’m coming for your spot
|
| Yelling «Fuck your feelings»
|
| Yeah, my aim on point I don’t care what the fuck y’all feeling
|
| Yeah it’s worldwide web
|
| Woo, hit the log in
|
| You got motherfucking mail, leave a trail of the breadcrumbs everywhere I’m
|
| walking
|
| Hansel and Gretel with a touch of heavy metal and some late 90s rap in my
|
| Walkman
|
| Tell 'em I will never soften
|
| I ran through your place, put hands on your face like I
|
| Listen, I go hard for weeks with dope bars, repeat
|
| Any hater in my way, Control, Alt, Delete
|
| Call me Worldwide Web, a Christian Bourdain
|
| All I do is board planes
|
| I wrote off the seats as a business expense
|
| Sick when I flip my sentence
|
| I rip shit, spit tremendous
|
| And cock back and swing with the fists of vengeance
|
| Relentless, everybody in attendance gon' see
|
| You don’t wan' be fucking with me
|
| Rule so fucking deep, you’d think we under the seats
|
| Yeah with the punches that’ll buckle your knees
|
| You would think you watching the WWE
|
| Come and you’ll see
|
| Listen, I be coming correct
|
| Throw your chips down, man fuck it, I’ma double your bet
|
| Shit I’ll run in just to pull in on a rug and I’ll jet
|
| I live a wild life, WWF
|
| Yeah it’s WW dot com
|
| Worldwide Web in your CD Rom
|
| I been all up on the internet dropping bombs
|
| Ever since I was Myspace friends with Tom
|
| I’m about to bum rush the same
|
| Tell me motherfucker, what’s my name
|
| Yeah our cloth isn’t cut the same
|
| I’ll be spitting 'til I bust a vein
|
| Now tell me what’s my name?
|
| What’s my name? |
| What?
|
| It’s W, W, W, dot
|
| It’s worldwide web and I’m gunning for the top
|
| It’s W, W, W, dot
|
| Yeah, it’s worldwide web, motherfucker, and I’m coming for your spot
|
| Yelling «Fuck your feelings»
|
| Yeah, my aim on point I don’t care what the fuck y’all feeling
|
| Yeah it’s worldwide web |