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chris webby - off the chain (2017) lyrics

[intro]
yeah
i’m sick as fuck right now
but then i got high
and wrote this song in like 45 minutes
so what?
just remember
i’m still off the motherfucking chain
b-tch

[verse 1]
chain reaction, when my brain’s in action
ice cold, shit my dna springs alaskan
as i smash on the track like when trains are crashin’
tell the main attraction i’m gaining traction
since bawitdaba, da bang, da bang diggy
i’ve been laying down flames and claiming my city
sippin’ true blood, pack the strain in my spliffy
stayin’ up late, grow fangs and get busy
and my tint’s so dark all you seein’ is a silhouette
through the smoke clouds from the marijuana cigarette
i’m off the chain like an evicted pet
without a leash, cause i use that shit to strangle the friggin’ vet
up in the dog park, shittin’ on the lawn part
knockin’ everything off the shelves in a local walmart
raisin’ hell ’til i’m gettin’ it soon
shit’s in the bag, like murder weapons in the evidence room
b-tch

[chorus]
i’ma go ahead and do my thing
you just gotta let me off the chain
i’m off the chain
off the chain
you just gotta go and let me off the chain
i’m off the chain
off the chain
you just gotta go and let me off the chain
i’m off the chain
you just gotta let me off the chain

[post-chorus]
i’m off the chain yeah
i’m off the motherfucking chain yeah
i’m off the chain yeah
i’m off the motherfucking chain yeah
i’m off the chain yeah
i’m off the motherfucking chain yeah
you just gotta let me off the chain

[verse 2]
yeah, started off small, just a kid watching trl
now my team is bigger than the medellín cartel
i tee off well, like nicholson, golf shorts and timberlands
listenin’, sick in the booth and still whippin’ ’em
chillin’ up at the roxbury with richard grieco
and a fiji full of tito’s in the pockets of my peacoat
’cause i ain’t buying bottles, b-tch i’m ballin’ on a budget
and my debit’s already over-drafted already homie so fuck it
from the east to the wiki-wild, wiki-wiki-wild-wild west
we be smokin’ the best, no contest
i’m beyond fresh, shuttin’ spots down like a bomb threat
headin’ from the bleachers to the bench, now i’m on deck
make way, hittin’ it first like ray j
white rapper, my aka is “payday”
put them hands in the air
if you sippin’ put them cans in the air
cheers to a fuckin’ grammy this year
yeah

- chris webby lyrics

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