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W.E.B. Video (MV)




Performed By: Count Bass D
Length: 2:18
Written by: Dwight Conroy Farrell




Count Bass D - W.E.B. Lyrics




It ain't your lucky day
No beat or verse specials
The one-legged tap dancer's name is the devil
Plotted my demise 'fore I knew what was happening
Heartbroken we fell out Damar Hamlin
Straight to the lab sharpening my sampling
Now they asking who died and left you king?
Count not Charles you a junior like Carl's
Best a beware for whom the lion snarls
Or beat feet when you see warm bear scat
Selfish protagonist didn't even save the cat
Matta fact where the money at? What you think this is?
Uncle Sam's a partner, I want mine, he want his
Your ghostwriter needs an editor
Better to catch a predatory creditor
That's lending you bread pretending to
Have your best interest unethical rates
You're more interested in DMs and Tinder dates
Bid you adieu like skinny Adele
Who's compelled to squeeze wide feet in Gazelles
She never cared 'cause he couldn't grow a Philly beard
Up and disappeared and I think that's weird
Ceased to exist like mountains in Kansas
Searched for a clue even canvassed the campus
Left there empty handed damn near stranded
The brother thought for sure that he had the advantage
Schlong long like a Fela Kuti song
Couldn't figure out what the hell went wrong
Blown away by her grace and poise
But she was W.E.B. she don't do boys
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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It ain't your lucky day
No beat or verse specials
The one-legged tap dancer's name is the devil
Plotted my demise 'fore I knew what was happening
Heartbroken we fell out Damar Hamlin
Straight to the lab sharpening my sampling
Now they asking who died and left you king?
Count not Charles you a junior like Carl's
Best a beware for whom the lion snarls
Or beat feet when you see warm bear scat
Selfish protagonist didn't even save the cat
Matta fact where the money at? What you think this is?
Uncle Sam's a partner, I want mine, he want his
Your ghostwriter needs an editor
Better to catch a predatory creditor
That's lending you bread pretending to
Have your best interest unethical rates
You're more interested in DMs and Tinder dates
Bid you adieu like skinny Adele
Who's compelled to squeeze wide feet in Gazelles
She never cared 'cause he couldn't grow a Philly beard
Up and disappeared and I think that's weird
Ceased to exist like mountains in Kansas
Searched for a clue even canvassed the campus
Left there empty handed damn near stranded
The brother thought for sure that he had the advantage
Schlong long like a Fela Kuti song
Couldn't figure out what the hell went wrong
Blown away by her grace and poise
But she was W.E.B. she don't do boys
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Dwight Conroy Farrell
Copyright: Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC

Back to: Count Bass D

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