This is a song about "Web designer"

For those lost inside the web

The lights may flicker, your face feels red

The third one is mixed, white and black

In their designer jean's back

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

Yeah, i'm caught up in this world like a fly in a web/

Call that bitch rondoi'm fresher than the prom hoteach her, we don't fly coachshe fuckin' but she act dumb

An explosion on the mic as i weave a woven web of beauty, so seldom does it happen,

And dip her teeth in gold molds and flossed the shit

Best on this web-site,oh wait you already knew it

Niggas in jerusalem, waitin for signs

Crunch rhymes into web of spun split spines,

It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for

Or your designer clothes littering the floor,

Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote

I don't rock designer cloths, i rather rock and shock with that raiden robe