Phat-T Letra

Verse One:B Glad like the bag I'm not mad like the hatterOn Anotha Level and I didn't use a ladderListen up good call me short and it's onBust you in the dome cuz I got little man's syndromeAlways down to bone when Home Alone like the movieGettin mad groupies, Tina Tam and SuzieHonies wanna groove me, cuz my flow is groovyI never pay ends or get skins in a jacuzzi"The track is mighty phat to meYa loves the way I freaks the beatWhenever it is I freaks the beatSnaps come rolling back to me!" *sung to Tootsie Roll commercial*Verse Two:What, is, really going on?My, lyrics, rain like a stormOh yes, it sets quite a trendI'm the one your girlie likes and you can't stand itFresh cut come hottest, not at all modestI'ma tell you right now, I gets no runs anonymousCut all the hoopla, end the propagandinWe rode the Soul Train, not left BandstandinFans keep fannin, where's my girl Shannon? Hot damn itNow you understand it, aiyyo catch the StonesBecause it's slamminVerse Three: Booty BrownI'm throwin up West coast in the niggaz facesFrom the City of Angels, I know you know where the place itThey call me Rudy, the dark brown tuttiThe dark brown booty with an afro and a mad flow I'm a rap proPlay the right end, I'm into flippin hitslike flapjacks off of fat stacks as I max with Anotha LevelSo dig it like like a shovel digs a ditchA West coast rhyme without using the word .....Verse Four: BambinoI'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming like thisBallin up my fists and I'm not even pissedI'm just hyped, the type, you gotsta believe inThe dog inside of me is hungry this is what I feed itMarks and oreos, until we fill it upThe youngest hound of the Level does that make me a punkYup, shucks, I still get buttAsk your local honey and she'll tell you what's upOhhh damn, you freak me so wellI used to hear it all the time from my old girl MelNow I'm living swell add her to my clienteleCan I get some thirst cuz it's hot as hellI kick some hoarse shit now I gots ta hay bailVerse Five: Slim Kid TreHey bail, check it out wellI gets up on the microphone and then I have to saillike a ship, I'm on another motherf--kin tipGot me? Here I go, copyYeah, so watch your back, blackPharcyde's here and we'll never come wackMaking all the papes and comin by the stacksI know Anotha Level got my motherf--kin backHere to represent West coastBurnin up the map like toastVerse Six:I feel the funk while Tre Rhymealinda'sBefore it's all over, we all just spins the indo or the budConcentration is a must, occupation is to bustSo I bust, and then I bustThis shit is Phat, I'm hoping thatYou can comprehend, the flavors that we blendYou know where to find me, come for the rideOn Anotha Level II the PharcudeVerse Seven: ImaniImani represents one of the funk fabulouschillin freewheelin funkstaz, out the funky depthsof the West coast underground, umm, yo, so how that sound?I be rippin, rappin, with Anotha Level, rippinRappin with the Freestyle Fellowshippin, and the WaskalzGiving niggaz assholes, cuz niggaz don't understandMy s--t be in demand so I'm holdin niggaz to WalkMan'spapers, if you slept on me you know you catch the VaporsI got my nigga Fat Lip with me, yoHe ain't around so what am I gonna do G?What am I gonna do man??? DAMN!!!Yo whassup man? You wanna rap?Can you rap whassup?You look a nigga that can't rap, but I think you might be ableto drop somethin on the mic yoVerse Eight: Farmer Brown (Fat Lip)Well I used to just rap when I was on the farmPeople tried to come around giving me some harmBut I tell em no that it got to cuzThe Farmer Man is about to flowCuz I'm the Farmer Man, I hold the mic in my handlike a pitchfork, I say whassup to New YorkI'm way out like Mork from OrkEnough to make you grab a bottle of moonshineand pop the cork, yeeeee-hawwww!!!!Bout to get raw with my man Farmer JohnAnd my good ol frog, so y'all rockThe cock-a-doodle-doo, ragga-free funkEven though this ain't somethin that you're used taYeahhh, hyuh hyuh hyuh hyuhAnd ya don't stop, check it out check it outYa don't stop, check it out check it outYa don't stop, yo what's you got to say on this boy*fades*Anotha Level II the Pharcyde (10X)Matter of fact it was phatThat shit was phatSay what? To theSay what say what?To the, Phar-CydeKeep it going, Fat Lip grip the mic