Lyric Fathom Lyrics
| Song | Lyric Fathom |
| Artist | Blackalicious |
| Album | SoleSides Greatest Bumps |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| (Gift Of Gab): | |
| Rappers step to me like I'm a doormat | |
| Check the format, I pour raps | |
| Not your average everyday hardcore act actin' | |
| I'm like a mac 10, a uzi and a AK-47 | |
| Rollin' with crazy kids like Bebe | |
| Mayday mayday, I used to listen to KDAY in my heydays | |
| I ride the bus with a dream of one day lampin' inside of a Mercedes | |
| Benz with sheepskin interior | |
| And two fifteens, and to rip means to get creamed | |
| I'm large as a hippopotamus, trip, I gotta dis | |
| Sip a bottomless cup of brew and I'm getting raw to this | |
| If a rapper tries to step, I rip and slaughter his ass | |
| Some shit, he oughta just swallow his pride and get to following this | |
| I'm marvelous like Marvin Haggler in his prime | |
| I carve kids like a dagger with my mind | |
| I start shit with rappers who can't rhyme | |
| I spark spliffs cuz I don't stagger when I'm high | |
| But when I'm drunk I do, punk I do not acknowledge wackness | |
| I gotcha grandma doin' backflips and tumbles | |
| I rumble through the jungle with Ollie and Frasier | |
| Call me the savior of hip hop | |
| I rip shop and get my proppers | |
| Come get with this ak, my style is akwards | |
| I never mock words, I talk towards the inner city youth | |
| Revealing it, the truth | |
| I'm feeling that the proof is in the pudding | |
| I put men that would end hip hop in my shop and I torture | |
| Chorus: | |
| Check out my lyric fathom | |
| Check it brothers, really, check it out | |
| (Gift Of Gab): | |
| As I walk through the jungle with a knife on my ankle | |
| Taking lives, skip will shank you lyrically | |
| Apparently niggas wanna sleep still | |
| Keep still, I'm packin' the a heap of skills | |
| I'm rhyming to keep an ill mind, Saddam type shit | |
| Your arm might get snapped like a twig | |
| Rap like a nig-gero possessed thorough | |
| The astonishing mission, dishing pain | |
| Fishing in brains, plain lynching niggas bitchin' | |
| So take a ride, I'd abide by my rules | |
| Cuz fools I had duels with, I left them in the pool pit, I rule kids | |
| I'm a kamikaze bomb, drop a nigga with an arsenal of drama in my rhymes | |
| With the tracks and backs and heads is broken to pieces | |
| Rapture's phat, ya dead, ya croaked | |
| I wrote this piece as just a little dedication | |
| to the rappers on the other level | |
| Budded out and looking into space, a new frontier | |
| And I can probably bet cha that we got anything you want here | |
| Cuz punk, we're the crew that make you cheer | |
| The two that make you fear and send you back to the rear | |
| We're here | |
| CHORUS | |
| (Gift Of Gab): | |
| I flip and I rip shit | |
| I whip and I dip shit | |
| With the lyrical form, I did kick it slick | |
| I'm gifted, I'm ripping a nitwit to shreds | |
| Get the Feds to arrest me for slaughtering emcees | |
| That's right, on my testicles | |
| Come get a little array of the skill supreme | |
| Wanna defeat me? My nigga, you should kill the dream | |
| The noise, the boys, the count, everybody | |
| When I drop fat styles that ain't your simple blahzay blah | |
| Lodi Dodi average Joe Simpleton with a average flow | |
| Have to go after you jugular | |
| Then shit gets uglier | |
| Man I hope you take heed | |
| I'm making brain cells bleed in excess amount of hemoglobin | |
| I rap, yes I'm out to see you bobbin' ya noggin' | |
| I've been gobblin' niggas talkin' shit like Hagen-Daas | |
| Stompin' ‘em, mobbin' with the ill ass skill as seen | |
| On individuals who fiend for the real shit |
| Gift Of Gab: | |
| Rappers step to me like I' m a doormat | |
| Check the format, I pour raps | |
| Not your average everyday hardcore act actin' | |
| I' m like a mac 10, a uzi and a AK47 | |
| Rollin' with crazy kids like Bebe | |
| Mayday mayday, I used to listen to KDAY in my heydays | |
| I ride the bus with a dream of one day lampin' inside of a Mercedes | |
| Benz with sheepskin interior | |
| And two fifteens, and to rip means to get creamed | |
| I' m large as a hippopotamus, trip, I gotta dis | |
| Sip a bottomless cup of brew and I' m getting raw to this | |
| If a rapper tries to step, I rip and slaughter his ass | |
| Some shit, he oughta just swallow his pride and get to following this | |
| I' m marvelous like Marvin Haggler in his prime | |
| I carve kids like a dagger with my mind | |
| I start shit with rappers who can' t rhyme | |
| I spark spliffs cuz I don' t stagger when I' m high | |
| But when I' m drunk I do, punk I do not acknowledge wackness | |
| I gotcha grandma doin' backflips and tumbles | |
| I rumble through the jungle with Ollie and Frasier | |
| Call me the savior of hip hop | |
| I rip shop and get my proppers | |
| Come get with this ak, my style is akwards | |
| I never mock words, I talk towards the inner city youth | |
| Revealing it, the truth | |
| I' m feeling that the proof is in the pudding | |
| I put men that would end hip hop in my shop and I torture | |
| Chorus: | |
| Check out my lyric fathom | |
| Check it brothers, really, check it out | |
| Gift Of Gab: | |
| As I walk through the jungle with a knife on my ankle | |
| Taking lives, skip will shank you lyrically | |
| Apparently niggas wanna sleep still | |
| Keep still, I' m packin' the a heap of skills | |
| I' m rhyming to keep an ill mind, Saddam type shit | |
| Your arm might get snapped like a twig | |
| Rap like a niggero possessed thorough | |
| The astonishing mission, dishing pain | |
| Fishing in brains, plain lynching niggas bitchin' | |
| So take a ride, I' d abide by my rules | |
| Cuz fools I had duels with, I left them in the pool pit, I rule kids | |
| I' m a kamikaze bomb, drop a nigga with an arsenal of drama in my rhymes | |
| With the tracks and backs and heads is broken to pieces | |
| Rapture' s phat, ya dead, ya croaked | |
| I wrote this piece as just a little dedication | |
| to the rappers on the other level | |
| Budded out and looking into space, a new frontier | |
| And I can probably bet cha that we got anything you want here | |
| Cuz punk, we' re the crew that make you cheer | |
| The two that make you fear and send you back to the rear | |
| We' re here | |
| CHORUS | |
| Gift Of Gab: | |
| I flip and I rip shit | |
| I whip and I dip shit | |
| With the lyrical form, I did kick it slick | |
| I' m gifted, I' m ripping a nitwit to shreds | |
| Get the Feds to arrest me for slaughtering emcees | |
| That' s right, on my testicles | |
| Come get a little array of the skill supreme | |
| Wanna defeat me? My nigga, you should kill the dream | |
| The noise, the boys, the count, everybody | |
| When I drop fat styles that ain' t your simple blahzay blah | |
| Lodi Dodi average Joe Simpleton with a average flow | |
| Have to go after you jugular | |
| Then shit gets uglier | |
| Man I hope you take heed | |
| I' m making brain cells bleed in excess amount of hemoglobin | |
| I rap, yes I' m out to see you bobbin' ya noggin' | |
| I' ve been gobblin' niggas talkin' shit like HagenDaas | |
| Stompin' ' em, mobbin' with the ill ass skill as seen | |
| On individuals who fiend for the real shit |
| Gift Of Gab: | |
| Rappers step to me like I' m a doormat | |
| Check the format, I pour raps | |
| Not your average everyday hardcore act actin' | |
| I' m like a mac 10, a uzi and a AK47 | |
| Rollin' with crazy kids like Bebe | |
| Mayday mayday, I used to listen to KDAY in my heydays | |
| I ride the bus with a dream of one day lampin' inside of a Mercedes | |
| Benz with sheepskin interior | |
| And two fifteens, and to rip means to get creamed | |
| I' m large as a hippopotamus, trip, I gotta dis | |
| Sip a bottomless cup of brew and I' m getting raw to this | |
| If a rapper tries to step, I rip and slaughter his ass | |
| Some shit, he oughta just swallow his pride and get to following this | |
| I' m marvelous like Marvin Haggler in his prime | |
| I carve kids like a dagger with my mind | |
| I start shit with rappers who can' t rhyme | |
| I spark spliffs cuz I don' t stagger when I' m high | |
| But when I' m drunk I do, punk I do not acknowledge wackness | |
| I gotcha grandma doin' backflips and tumbles | |
| I rumble through the jungle with Ollie and Frasier | |
| Call me the savior of hip hop | |
| I rip shop and get my proppers | |
| Come get with this ak, my style is akwards | |
| I never mock words, I talk towards the inner city youth | |
| Revealing it, the truth | |
| I' m feeling that the proof is in the pudding | |
| I put men that would end hip hop in my shop and I torture | |
| Chorus: | |
| Check out my lyric fathom | |
| Check it brothers, really, check it out | |
| Gift Of Gab: | |
| As I walk through the jungle with a knife on my ankle | |
| Taking lives, skip will shank you lyrically | |
| Apparently niggas wanna sleep still | |
| Keep still, I' m packin' the a heap of skills | |
| I' m rhyming to keep an ill mind, Saddam type shit | |
| Your arm might get snapped like a twig | |
| Rap like a niggero possessed thorough | |
| The astonishing mission, dishing pain | |
| Fishing in brains, plain lynching niggas bitchin' | |
| So take a ride, I' d abide by my rules | |
| Cuz fools I had duels with, I left them in the pool pit, I rule kids | |
| I' m a kamikaze bomb, drop a nigga with an arsenal of drama in my rhymes | |
| With the tracks and backs and heads is broken to pieces | |
| Rapture' s phat, ya dead, ya croaked | |
| I wrote this piece as just a little dedication | |
| to the rappers on the other level | |
| Budded out and looking into space, a new frontier | |
| And I can probably bet cha that we got anything you want here | |
| Cuz punk, we' re the crew that make you cheer | |
| The two that make you fear and send you back to the rear | |
| We' re here | |
| CHORUS | |
| Gift Of Gab: | |
| I flip and I rip shit | |
| I whip and I dip shit | |
| With the lyrical form, I did kick it slick | |
| I' m gifted, I' m ripping a nitwit to shreds | |
| Get the Feds to arrest me for slaughtering emcees | |
| That' s right, on my testicles | |
| Come get a little array of the skill supreme | |
| Wanna defeat me? My nigga, you should kill the dream | |
| The noise, the boys, the count, everybody | |
| When I drop fat styles that ain' t your simple blahzay blah | |
| Lodi Dodi average Joe Simpleton with a average flow | |
| Have to go after you jugular | |
| Then shit gets uglier | |
| Man I hope you take heed | |
| I' m making brain cells bleed in excess amount of hemoglobin | |
| I rap, yes I' m out to see you bobbin' ya noggin' | |
| I' ve been gobblin' niggas talkin' shit like HagenDaas | |
| Stompin' ' em, mobbin' with the ill ass skill as seen | |
| On individuals who fiend for the real shit |
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