Too Phat Where My Love At ? Lyrics
            Verse 1
            Listen...
            It's been like
            One fourth of a score
            And I ain't glad at all
            'Cause I been facin'
            More bull than a matador
            And ever since
            The success of Plan B
            Alotta people think
            It's been candy
            Sweet and dandy
            It can be
            Minus all the envy
            And all these underground cats
            Wanna slam me
            Yeah I admit I been quiet
            But off that I'm tired
            You got beef?
            I'll fry it
            Now which motherlover
            Wanna try it?
            My silence's an act of charity
            And now unmerrily
            I'm forced to stoop down
            To your mentality
            Battle rap was an excuse phrase
            You 'bout to lose face
            The whole sing sing thing
            Was a loose case
            Sing sing's a pen
            Short for penitentiary
            S-G is Singapore
            And Singapore is family
            So tell Kuza
            Which you's a loser
            And if I see her face
            At my show again
            I'll bruise her
            Duality of Styles'
            Diss track was garbage
            Illustrait, garbage
            Souljah Boo, fat garbage
            And praise the Lord
            The mentions are kept minimal
            And when I diss
            I say names
            Buck bein' subliminal
            You asked for my autograph
            Memorized my recitals
            Well last year
            You groupies
            And now you punks rivals? (Please...)
            Illegitimate beef is suicidal
            I still hold the t__le
            And I'm still your freakin' idol
        
            Chorus
            Now where my love at?
            I'm askin' young cats
            And all that
            If I ain't phat
            Now what you call that?
            Alotta suckers are mad
            Because I'm all dat
            Yo' blast the track
            Where you ball at
        
            Verse 2
            Alotta people love
            Us but even some hate
            And the feeling
            When you dealin' wit'
            Dumb hatred's ungreat
            Five years
            I met all kinds of people
            Some minds are simple
            Some kinds just grind your temple
            Critics can suck my ***
            I'm sick with it
            Anonymous diss
            And say another kid did it
            Word is
            Since in the limelight
            Malique can't rhyme right
            But puff that
            This rhyme's tight mate
            Now am I right?
            Or am I right?
            The buck I do
            With my life is my right
            Well everybody sins
            Why mine's the highlight?
            Now reporters stay nosey
            Gossip and rumors
            Life is made humor
            Sicker than brain tumor
            Friends turn to snitches
            Jelly duns is vicious
            Try to set me up
            By hookin' me up with witches
            Now even Joe thinks I'm paranoid
            Cause I got this odd
            Sense of danger every 40 yards
            So I roll with bodyguards
            I swear to God
            If it wasn't for the cream
            I've quit cause I've had
            And done enough for the scene
            Promote the four elements
            Key show performin'
            Foreign land tourin'
            Now doin' a song with Warren
            Kids is stormin'
            b__ rushin' pack shows
            But respect from the scene
            Ain't had those
            Now all fingers up
            Not one, yeah I would love that
            Askin' hip hop heads
            Now where my love at...?
        
            Chorus (2x)
            Now where my love at?
            I'm askin' young cats
            And all that
            If I ain't phat
            Now what you call that?
            Alotta suckers are mad
            Because I'm all dat
            Yo' blast the track
            Where you ball at
        
            Verse 3
            Yo...
            I got emotions to let out
            Impossible in two verses
            So here's a third one
            Pardon the curses
            First is first
            Imma make clear
            And state here
            That I ain't start ish
            And won't stop until
            Your eighth tear
            Diss until your mates cheer
            It's retaliation
            The price you pay
            For thinkin' I've eternal patience
            After squashin' beef with Ammo
            I thought it'll be
            Like no problemo
            Until I heard kiddies
            Who dissin' on they demos
            Not just that
            Go on the net
            Phat Fam dissed by Bobby
            Little sick kid
            Who surf p___ as a hobby
            14 and racist
            In real life Phlowtron
            Will stomp you on a daily basis
            Alotta internet nerds
            Think they wildin'
            Keystylin' ain't freestylin'
            No timin', no hooks
            No production, no beats, pal
            Than come up with wack freestyles
            I write songs good hearts listen
            The rest start dissin'
            Wit' stanky rhymes
            I call 'em farticians
            Yeah I only mentioned
            Few from the namelist
            Your overnight trick
            Of gettin' famous is the lamest
            Diss the best
            He diss you back
            You get known
            That's obsolete witch
            Work the throne on your own
            But until that day comes
            Kill the bull ish
            And all that
            And realize that deep in your heart
            That's where my love at
        
            Chorus (2x)
            Now where my love at?
            I'm askin' young cats
            And all that
            If I ain't phat
            Now what you call that?
            Alotta suckers are mad
            Because I'm all dat
            Yo' blast the track
            Where you ball at
        
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