Where My Love At? Lyrics
| Song | Where My Love At? |
| Artist | Too Phat |
| Album | Where My Love At |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : SEET, DAMIAN / IBRAHIM, CAIREL ADRIN BIN | |
| 作曲 : Malique/Damian Shorty Soul | |
| I'm not superman, I don't claim to be | |
| (Yeah, this is for all the real hip hop haters out there) | |
| I'm not | |
| I'm not superman | |
| Where my love at? | |
| I'm not superman | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Verse 1 (Malique) | |
| 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 uck that I'm tired | |
| You got beef? I'll fry it, now which mother lover 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 | |
| SG is Singapore, and Singapore is family | |
| So tell Kuza, witch 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 punk rivals? | |
| Please' | |
| Illegitimate beef is suicidal | |
| I still hold the title and I'm still your freakin' idol | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Where my love at?) | |
| Now where my love at? | |
| I'm askin' young cats and all that | |
| If I ain't phat now what you call that? | |
| (Where my love at?) | |
| Alotta suckers are mad because I'm all that | |
| Yo' blast the track where you ball at? | |
| (Where my love at?) | |
| Now where my love at? | |
| I'm askin' young cats and all that | |
| If I ain't phat now what you call that? | |
| (Where my love at?) | |
| Alotta suckers are mad because I'm all that | |
| Yo' blast the track where you ball at? | |
| Verse 2 (Malique) | |
| 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 didick I'm sick wit' it | |
| Anonymous diss and say another kid did it | |
| Word is, since in the limelight, Malique can't rhyme right | |
| But uck that, this rhyme's tight mate, now am I right? | |
| Or am I right? The uck 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 snitchers, jelly duns is vicious | |
| Try to set me up by hookin' me up wit' witches | |
| Now even Joe thinks I'm paranoid cause I got this odd | |
| Sense of danger every 40 yards so I roll wit' bodyguards | |
| I swear to God if it wasn't for the cream | |
| I've quit cause I've had and done enuff for the scene | |
| Promote the 4 elements, key show performin' | |
| Foreign land tourin', now doin' a song wit' Warren | |
| Kids is stormin', bum rushin' pack shows | |
| But respect from the scene ain't had tho | |
| Now all fingers up, not one, yeah I would love that | |
| Askin' hip hop heads, now where my love at?! | |
| (Chorus) | |
| Verse 3 (Malique) | |
| I got emotions to let out, impossible intwo 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 wit' Ammo, I thought it'll be like no problemo | |
| Until I heard kiddies who dissin' on the demos | |
| Not just that, go on the Net, Phat Fam dissed by Bobby | |
| Little sick kid who surfs porn as a hobby | |
| 14 and racist, in real life Phlowtron will stomp you on a daily basis | |
| Alotta Internet nerds think they wildin' | |
| Keystyin' ain't freestylin' | |
| No timin', no hooks, no production, no beats, pal | |
| I rather write dope lyrics than come up wit' 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 name list | |
| Your overnight trick of getting' 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 bullish and all that | |
| And realize that deep in your heart that's where my love at' | |
| (Chorus) |
| zuo ci : SEET, DAMIAN IBRAHIM, CAIREL ADRIN BIN | |
| zuo qu : Malique Damian Shorty Soul | |
| I' m not superman, I don' t claim to be | |
| Yeah, this is for all the real hip hop haters out there | |
| I' m not | |
| I' m not superman | |
| Where my love at? | |
| I' m not superman | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Verse 1 Malique | |
| 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 uck that I' m tired | |
| You got beef? I' ll fry it, now which mother lover 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 | |
| SG is Singapore, and Singapore is family | |
| So tell Kuza, witch 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 punk rivals? | |
| Please' | |
| Illegitimate beef is suicidal | |
| I still hold the title and I' m still your freakin' idol | |
| Chorus | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Now where my love at? | |
| I' m askin' young cats and all that | |
| If I ain' t phat now what you call that? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Alotta suckers are mad because I' m all that | |
| Yo' blast the track where you ball at? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Now where my love at? | |
| I' m askin' young cats and all that | |
| If I ain' t phat now what you call that? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Alotta suckers are mad because I' m all that | |
| Yo' blast the track where you ball at? | |
| Verse 2 Malique | |
| 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 didick I' m sick wit' it | |
| Anonymous diss and say another kid did it | |
| Word is, since in the limelight, Malique can' t rhyme right | |
| But uck that, this rhyme' s tight mate, now am I right? | |
| Or am I right? The uck 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 snitchers, jelly duns is vicious | |
| Try to set me up by hookin' me up wit' witches | |
| Now even Joe thinks I' m paranoid cause I got this odd | |
| Sense of danger every 40 yards so I roll wit' bodyguards | |
| I swear to God if it wasn' t for the cream | |
| I' ve quit cause I' ve had and done enuff for the scene | |
| Promote the 4 elements, key show performin' | |
| Foreign land tourin', now doin' a song wit' Warren | |
| Kids is stormin', bum rushin' pack shows | |
| But respect from the scene ain' t had tho | |
| Now all fingers up, not one, yeah I would love that | |
| Askin' hip hop heads, now where my love at? ! | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3 Malique | |
| I got emotions to let out, impossible intwo 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 wit' Ammo, I thought it' ll be like no problemo | |
| Until I heard kiddies who dissin' on the demos | |
| Not just that, go on the Net, Phat Fam dissed by Bobby | |
| Little sick kid who surfs porn as a hobby | |
| 14 and racist, in real life Phlowtron will stomp you on a daily basis | |
| Alotta Internet nerds think they wildin' | |
| Keystyin' ain' t freestylin' | |
| No timin', no hooks, no production, no beats, pal | |
| I rather write dope lyrics than come up wit' 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 name list | |
| Your overnight trick of getting' 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 bullish and all that | |
| And realize that deep in your heart that' s where my love at' | |
| Chorus |
| zuò cí : SEET, DAMIAN IBRAHIM, CAIREL ADRIN BIN | |
| zuò qǔ : Malique Damian Shorty Soul | |
| I' m not superman, I don' t claim to be | |
| Yeah, this is for all the real hip hop haters out there | |
| I' m not | |
| I' m not superman | |
| Where my love at? | |
| I' m not superman | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Verse 1 Malique | |
| 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 uck that I' m tired | |
| You got beef? I' ll fry it, now which mother lover 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 | |
| SG is Singapore, and Singapore is family | |
| So tell Kuza, witch 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 punk rivals? | |
| Please' | |
| Illegitimate beef is suicidal | |
| I still hold the title and I' m still your freakin' idol | |
| Chorus | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Now where my love at? | |
| I' m askin' young cats and all that | |
| If I ain' t phat now what you call that? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Alotta suckers are mad because I' m all that | |
| Yo' blast the track where you ball at? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Now where my love at? | |
| I' m askin' young cats and all that | |
| If I ain' t phat now what you call that? | |
| Where my love at? | |
| Alotta suckers are mad because I' m all that | |
| Yo' blast the track where you ball at? | |
| Verse 2 Malique | |
| 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 didick I' m sick wit' it | |
| Anonymous diss and say another kid did it | |
| Word is, since in the limelight, Malique can' t rhyme right | |
| But uck that, this rhyme' s tight mate, now am I right? | |
| Or am I right? The uck 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 snitchers, jelly duns is vicious | |
| Try to set me up by hookin' me up wit' witches | |
| Now even Joe thinks I' m paranoid cause I got this odd | |
| Sense of danger every 40 yards so I roll wit' bodyguards | |
| I swear to God if it wasn' t for the cream | |
| I' ve quit cause I' ve had and done enuff for the scene | |
| Promote the 4 elements, key show performin' | |
| Foreign land tourin', now doin' a song wit' Warren | |
| Kids is stormin', bum rushin' pack shows | |
| But respect from the scene ain' t had tho | |
| Now all fingers up, not one, yeah I would love that | |
| Askin' hip hop heads, now where my love at? ! | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3 Malique | |
| I got emotions to let out, impossible intwo 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 wit' Ammo, I thought it' ll be like no problemo | |
| Until I heard kiddies who dissin' on the demos | |
| Not just that, go on the Net, Phat Fam dissed by Bobby | |
| Little sick kid who surfs porn as a hobby | |
| 14 and racist, in real life Phlowtron will stomp you on a daily basis | |
| Alotta Internet nerds think they wildin' | |
| Keystyin' ain' t freestylin' | |
| No timin', no hooks, no production, no beats, pal | |
| I rather write dope lyrics than come up wit' 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 name list | |
| Your overnight trick of getting' 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 bullish and all that | |
| And realize that deep in your heart that' s where my love at' | |
| Chorus |
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