[Excerpt: From the T.V. series Breaking Bad]
[Hank] "I don't know who you are. I don't even know who I'm talking to."
[Walt] "If that's true, if you don't know who I am, then maybe your best course would be to tread lightly."
[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
Listen bitch better tread lightly, I put 'em to bed nightly
Shit, you'll never see me tired and losin' is less likely (yea)
I got the haters mad 'cause they chick is my next wifey
(Keep talking) I don't care if i got your respect, bite me (fuck off)
Y'all think that people up in Connecticut can't rap
Well just watch as me and Ap go and put an end to that
While these other rappers countin' they chickens before they hatch (fuck it)
I said fuck it, and made 'em over easy with some hash
(Oh My God he's on the drugs again, holy fuck!) Urine so dirty
Only at my local deli am I going cold turkey
So much musical knowledge they askin' if I went to Berklee
Leaving third degree burns on the microphone until they heard me
I roll around with eighteen birdies and I ain't playin' golf
Just them Kit-Kat bitches, I got to break 'em off
Got 'em breathin' heavy as Vader givin' a monologue
Mazel-tov, Wolf in the game and you just a common dog (arf)
I don't even care... my name be ringin' bells like
Hector Salamanca with dynamite in his wheelchair
So get right, C. Webby is dead nice
You don't know me, so trust me bitch just tread light
[Hank] "I don't know who you are. I don't even know who I'm talking to."
[Walt] "If that's true, if you don't know who I am, then maybe your best course would be to tread lightly."
[Verse 1: Chris Webby]
Listen bitch better tread lightly, I put 'em to bed nightly
Shit, you'll never see me tired and losin' is less likely (yea)
I got the haters mad 'cause they chick is my next wifey
(Keep talking) I don't care if i got your respect, bite me (fuck off)
Y'all think that people up in Connecticut can't rap
Well just watch as me and Ap go and put an end to that
While these other rappers countin' they chickens before they hatch (fuck it)
I said fuck it, and made 'em over easy with some hash
(Oh My God he's on the drugs again, holy fuck!) Urine so dirty
Only at my local deli am I going cold turkey
So much musical knowledge they askin' if I went to Berklee
Leaving third degree burns on the microphone until they heard me
I roll around with eighteen birdies and I ain't playin' golf
Just them Kit-Kat bitches, I got to break 'em off
Got 'em breathin' heavy as Vader givin' a monologue
Mazel-tov, Wolf in the game and you just a common dog (arf)
I don't even care... my name be ringin' bells like
Hector Salamanca with dynamite in his wheelchair
So get right, C. Webby is dead nice
You don't know me, so trust me bitch just tread light
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