Fat Tony - Bangles lyrics

[Big Baby Gandhi] Uh, Gandhi On my way to the lab met my first real fan Said my verse real grand I said, "Please, chill Stan." Who I really write for, my moms and my brother That's why I'm really quite raw, my songs is my lover Going no jimmy, my flow is so silly Gandhi best rapper, got you going oh really So, feel me when I say I never knew love, like new love True thug, do d**, then I ask for group hug Baby so funny, you can call me Robin Williams Got no money, you can catch me rob and steal some Gandhi sounding real Pun, when I'm just a metaphor Big Baby Gandhi why I love the cheddar for The ones who want it the most are they who lack it See me on the block in my Nehru jacket With my Kufi on With my Toufik(?) on Vintage polo, looking kinda groovy, huh I don't know what else to do (etc...) [Fat Tony] When I was under age I was unafraid To step up on a stage And request to get paid Used to detest any weak b**h that would stand in my way Like a Linksys, I was wireless, tireless I just couldn't be contained Used to hang with my n***as And sang with my n***as Never slanged with my n***as Just used the internet and took pictures Used to put them up on my LJ, my Xanga, my MySpace Record songs at my place To meet my CD-R release date Used to meet Kate, with her sweet face Cause of my race, she liked my taste And liked my songs, I liked her thong We got it on, but it felt wrong So I gave her back, like a rebate But my life is rinse and repeat Now I'm with Kate, in New York State And life's great And I can't hate I don't know what else to do (etc...) [Heems] Greedhead Music Mike said, "Rap about some beautiful sh**." (Beauty) I just want to rap about booties and simple sh** (Booties!) Beauty's for the books, and I'm illiterate 'Gobbled and Chewed up by the schools system' immigrant Trying to make money like white people, and Learn how to be figurative, less literal Hyper literate, hyper referential Rap too minimal Trying to write for The Guardian about Pakistani generals Old Guard sentinels All god father with sensitive sweet s**y similies for your mind sense and sh** Dimension spins I can't drink as much Stop smoking blunts Don't split the dutch Think I'll quit the d** Kicked to the curb, too much You on whose nuts? Still puff the herb Dorothy & Herb, get my art collection up Still can drink a little Poor myself another cup What's up? (x9) I don't know what else to do (etc...) Mike doesn't look happy What's up? (x7)