Played Like a Piano West Coast Classics Radio by King T Lyrics
[Intro: King Tee]
King Tee's drunk again
Yo, check this out! Awww shit, aw shit
I wanna dedicate this song
To all them motherfuckers out there
That-that-that-that-that-that-that (not again)
Perpentratin'… perpetratin'… perpintratin'… wait, rewind
(But yo, King Tee, man, what is this? What is this?)
[Verse 1: King Tee]
Some cool shit for the King's anthology
And when I'm done, don't expect no apology
Stupid motherfucker shoulda stepped when I warned him
I'm from the Boondocks of Compton, California
I'm just anxious to whoop some ass
I went to high school, but I flunked every class
So what makes you think I give a fuck about respect?
I'll put your bitch in check, and I'll bet
You won't run up, son of a punk and a bitch, too
I shoulda did a drive-by on you and your crew
'Cause y'all be poppin' some shit that's unheard of
For you, what's the word? Uh… (wack!) — it's murder
Son, when I be crushin' your hood with a passion
And I ain't talkin' that Action Jackson
When I come, you better run for ammo
Or get played like a fuckin' piano
[Interlude: King Tee]
And yo, we got my homeboy Ice Cube in the house
From the motherfuckin' Lench Mob ('Sup, nigga?)
And yo, Ice Cube, I heard you're a singer now
Man, what's up? Yo, yo
[Verse 2: Ice Cube]
Do-Rae-Me, but I don't sing, mothafucker
I kick shit with the King, mothafucker
Ice Cube will clock the cash, rock the mass
And if you run up, I'll sock your ass
And watch that eye get swollen
'Cause I'm playin' punk niggas like Beethoven
So bust a cap, or swing and die
Fuck Yul Brynner, it's still The King and I
'Cause where I'm from, the sun don't shine
So One-Time hope I only bust one rhyme
But I bust one mo' for the suckers
Last year I was ruthless, now I'm lynchin' mothafuckers
And you'll see in a tree, MC's and crews
Now they're lookin' for me, King Tee, and Pooh
Now every nigga that crossed me's soprano
'Cause I played their ass like a fuckin' piano
[Interlude: King Tee]
Yo, check this out
We got my homeboy Breeze in the motherfuckin' house
From the L.A. Posse, and he got some shit to holler
Come on, man, bust this shit!
[Verse 3: MC Breeze]
Well, I'ma take the mic like it was a jack move
Run with the beat as long as the track moves
Hot as lava, organized like a seminar
Serve you, your crew, him, and them and a
Couple of rap-saps who think they can get butt
You slipped and shit, so nitwit, just get the nuts
Stealin' your high hopes, watchin' you write notes
Better walk a chalk line, not fuckin' a tightrope
Rap slicker, thicker, quicker than others, then I stop swift
Shift from 1st to 5th, while you stop to shoplift
Take the mic stand whenever the duty calls
If I bust a nut for every rhyme I had, I'd get blue balls
Serious as drama, I'ma watch her say "Me too."
You're shorter than Michu, your rhymes are see-through
You're nothin' like GQ, transparent, I made it apparent
I'm here to wax and tax the incoherent
'Cause B-R-E-E-Z-E will eas-i-ly
Re-main to be-e a top MC
When you see me, I wear a beanie, and not a Kangol
Now you got played, like a fuckin' piano
[Verse 4: King Tee]
This is just a sample of three black nig-roes
Who grew up in the heart of the ghetto
Doin' what we had to just to make ends meet
Some steal for a livin', some stand on the street
Just slang; some gang-bang, but big deal
They say in Compton, you gotta kill or get killed
Mothafuckin' police pull you over, slam you down
Then tell you that your hood is their town
And I ain't goin' for no shit like that
Cuff me up, take me to jail, I'll come back
Talkin' much shit, 'cause I talk what the fuck I feel
A few weeks in the county ain't no big deal
So a punk like you can't fuck with me
That big ballin'-ass nigga named King Tee
You think you can? I don't think that you can, though
Peace to Ice Cube and Breeze and the fuckin' piano
King Tee's drunk again
Yo, check this out! Awww shit, aw shit
I wanna dedicate this song
To all them motherfuckers out there
That-that-that-that-that-that-that (not again)
Perpentratin'… perpetratin'… perpintratin'… wait, rewind
(But yo, King Tee, man, what is this? What is this?)
[Verse 1: King Tee]
Some cool shit for the King's anthology
And when I'm done, don't expect no apology
Stupid motherfucker shoulda stepped when I warned him
I'm from the Boondocks of Compton, California
I'm just anxious to whoop some ass
I went to high school, but I flunked every class
So what makes you think I give a fuck about respect?
I'll put your bitch in check, and I'll bet
You won't run up, son of a punk and a bitch, too
I shoulda did a drive-by on you and your crew
'Cause y'all be poppin' some shit that's unheard of
For you, what's the word? Uh… (wack!) — it's murder
Son, when I be crushin' your hood with a passion
And I ain't talkin' that Action Jackson
When I come, you better run for ammo
Or get played like a fuckin' piano
[Interlude: King Tee]
And yo, we got my homeboy Ice Cube in the house
From the motherfuckin' Lench Mob ('Sup, nigga?)
And yo, Ice Cube, I heard you're a singer now
Man, what's up? Yo, yo
[Verse 2: Ice Cube]
Do-Rae-Me, but I don't sing, mothafucker
I kick shit with the King, mothafucker
Ice Cube will clock the cash, rock the mass
And if you run up, I'll sock your ass
And watch that eye get swollen
'Cause I'm playin' punk niggas like Beethoven
So bust a cap, or swing and die
Fuck Yul Brynner, it's still The King and I
'Cause where I'm from, the sun don't shine
So One-Time hope I only bust one rhyme
But I bust one mo' for the suckers
Last year I was ruthless, now I'm lynchin' mothafuckers
And you'll see in a tree, MC's and crews
Now they're lookin' for me, King Tee, and Pooh
Now every nigga that crossed me's soprano
'Cause I played their ass like a fuckin' piano
[Interlude: King Tee]
Yo, check this out
We got my homeboy Breeze in the motherfuckin' house
From the L.A. Posse, and he got some shit to holler
Come on, man, bust this shit!
[Verse 3: MC Breeze]
Well, I'ma take the mic like it was a jack move
Run with the beat as long as the track moves
Hot as lava, organized like a seminar
Serve you, your crew, him, and them and a
Couple of rap-saps who think they can get butt
You slipped and shit, so nitwit, just get the nuts
Stealin' your high hopes, watchin' you write notes
Better walk a chalk line, not fuckin' a tightrope
Rap slicker, thicker, quicker than others, then I stop swift
Shift from 1st to 5th, while you stop to shoplift
Take the mic stand whenever the duty calls
If I bust a nut for every rhyme I had, I'd get blue balls
Serious as drama, I'ma watch her say "Me too."
You're shorter than Michu, your rhymes are see-through
You're nothin' like GQ, transparent, I made it apparent
I'm here to wax and tax the incoherent
'Cause B-R-E-E-Z-E will eas-i-ly
Re-main to be-e a top MC
When you see me, I wear a beanie, and not a Kangol
Now you got played, like a fuckin' piano
[Verse 4: King Tee]
This is just a sample of three black nig-roes
Who grew up in the heart of the ghetto
Doin' what we had to just to make ends meet
Some steal for a livin', some stand on the street
Just slang; some gang-bang, but big deal
They say in Compton, you gotta kill or get killed
Mothafuckin' police pull you over, slam you down
Then tell you that your hood is their town
And I ain't goin' for no shit like that
Cuff me up, take me to jail, I'll come back
Talkin' much shit, 'cause I talk what the fuck I feel
A few weeks in the county ain't no big deal
So a punk like you can't fuck with me
That big ballin'-ass nigga named King Tee
You think you can? I don't think that you can, though
Peace to Ice Cube and Breeze and the fuckin' piano