Ali Baba & The Mic Thieves Lyrics - Singles - Too Phat

Verse 1 

Ladies and gentlemen guess 

Who's back in town 

It's Too Phat and Phlowtron 

Ay yo we runnin' it down 

Breaking the barrier's of sound 

Jealousy knows no bounds 

Moving in three sixty degrees 

Like a merry go round 

Still red and warm 

The blood that courses through my veins 

Arising from the underground 

Like a hydroplane 

Smuggling in crack phlowcane 

Where there's no pain 

There's no gain 

So I sustain my domain 

In a mind frame that's untamed 

Verse 2 

Yes 

Yes yes 

I know I'm sick 

I confess 

Displays of finesse 

When my raps manifest 

You couldn't handle this 

Till I'm hundred I spit tight 

Can't battle me on the mic 

We'll hit the streets and fist fight 

I'm quick to dislike 

The type that 

Speak a cheap hype 

How they gonna take me down 

With frail tales 

And weak psyche 

Raps weak 

Your style's mild 

And a tad meek 

Welcome to this game 

Of hide and seek 

With crazy mic freaks 

Verse 3 

Yo it's Khazanah the Khalled 

I bled the ground red 

Moses scarred through 

The red sea 

I speak what the future said 

Resurrect hip-hop for the dead 

This egomaniac's drive to ecstacy 

So let the ground rules be laid 

The kid with braces grace 

The scene in this hiatus 

Rebel reborn revive 

Rehearse this verse 

Verse 4 

Yo five years now 

Malique is an astonishing cat 

We started off the same time 

You still promising act 

Now what your problem is black? 

They say they callin' you back? 

You still are shoppin' for your demos 

While I'm polishin' plaques? 

Should start your colleging back 

Or start workin' like in Mc D's 

At least you'll get some mack on 

But minus the rap cheese 

You mad G? 

Start your cripwalk 

And wanna smack me? 

Please, a nation of asian Bloods 

Are gonna back me 

Verse 5 

Ba' wit' granna wit' mini bonn 

It's Atom Da'Bomb 

Namaewa genshi bakudan 

Inspectin' the kinda conduct 

To contemplate 

The kinda way 

You cynics trynna put 

The muthalovin' rhyme away 

It's evident that we adament 

About the element 

Of this hip-hop commandment 

Equivalent to utilising 

This brilliant tool 

I can prove 

Coz I barry more wack emcees than drew 

Verse 6 

Panel of the jury 

Witness this starscream 

I represent 

The infamous Phat Fam team 

Exhibit number one 

Murder raps on the run 

Spittin' fireballs 

We defy the sun 

Burning principles 

Killing bass 

Distort your eardrums 

Diagnose you with sun strokes 

Spotted your headlumps 

Defiance against us 

Will lead to your misery 

Nation of the three sixty 

Verse 7 

I'm sick of cats 

Who wanna diss 

But be acting like witches 

Here some disses 

To discompose disconcert 

And hit ya' 

I'm quick to disfigure 

Any figure who wanna play 

Swift with sharp blades 

Discover I'm hard to dissuade 

So keep your distance 

Don't discomode 

And disturb this verse 

Disingenous punks 

Disheartened best quick disperse 

I'll distinguish haters 

Who disunite the scene 

And discard disgusting friends 

With rap disabilities 

Verse 8 

I rhyme nice twice 

So lemme entice you 

On this mental heist 

You hidden behind a screen 

Never seen like a poltergeist 

Take my advice 

Up wit' us 

And you pay the price 

When it comes to street fights 

I transform and y'all be looking 

Like itty bitty mice 

I spit out lines 

Like a bad taste 

Of chocolate mocha 

Gimme the crowd 

I bring it loud 

Then I rock it fo' ya' 

I'm sick of these cats on posters 

I burn 'em to crisp like toasters 

Rob yo' as leave you screaming 

Like six flags on coasters 

Verse 9 

Delusions of grandeur 

Is one of the symptoms 

With you trynna build 

Your imaginary kingdom 

If you think your Aragorn 

Then I must be Tolkien 

This is what happens 

When you messin' 

Wit' the protean stylist 

Let the finest 

Cunning linguist recite this 

Like this your so called highness 

Are you indisposed? 

I offered you the blue pill 

But the red pill you chose 

Now you'se overdosed 

Verse 10 

Yo, buck a pencil 

I scribble stupid rhymes 

With my brain 

I'm mental 

This songs a little toast 

For my pain 

I'm roastin' my brain 

Crazy but I post no complaints 

Buckin' paranoid when tourin' 

Think of bombs in a plane 

I think I'm dyin' 

I'm seein' stuff 

I ain't supposed to 

Like Linda Blair in Exorcist 

Up in my lovin' poster 

Buck the mic I'm lonely 

I'm one fourth of a boaster 

Imaginary girlfriends 

Cause reals ain't buckin' closer