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letra de played like a piano (west coast classics radio) - king t

[intro: king tee]
king tee’s drunk again
yo, check this out! awww sh-t, aw sh-t
i wanna dedicate this song
to all them motherf-ckers 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 sh-t for the king’s anthology
and when i’m done, don’t expect no apology
stupid motherf-cker shoulda stepped when i warned him
i’m from the boondocks of compton, california
i’m just anxious to whoop some -ss
i went to high school, but i flunked every cl-ss
so what makes you think i give a f-ck about respect?
i’ll put your b-tch in check, and i’ll bet
you won’t run up, son of a punk and a b-tch, too
i shoulda did a drive-by on you and your crew
’cause y’all be poppin’ some sh-t that’s unheard of
for you, what’s the word? uh… (wack!) — it’s murder
son, when i be crushin’ your hood with a p-ssion
and i ain’t talkin’ that action jackson
when i come, you better run for ammo
or get played like a f-ckin’ piano

[interlude: king tee]
and yo, we got my homeboy ice cube in the house
from the motherf-ckin’ lench mob (‘sup, n-gga?)
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, mothaf-cker
i kick sh-t with the king, mothaf-cker
ice cube will clock the cash, rock the m-ss
and if you run up, i’ll sock your -ss
and watch that eye get swollen
’cause i’m playin’ punk n-ggas like beethoven
so bust a cap, or swing and die
f-ck 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’ mothaf-ckers
and you’ll see in a tree, mc’s and crews
now they’re lookin’ for me, king tee, and pooh
now every n-gga that crossed me’s soprano
’cause i played their -ss like a f-ckin’ piano

[interlude: king tee]
yo, check this out
we got my homeboy breeze in the motherf-ckin’ house
from the l.a. posse, and he got some sh-t to holler
come on, man, bust this sh-t!

[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 b-tt
you slipped and sh-t, so nitwit, just get the nuts
stealin’ your high hopes, watchin’ you write notes
better walk a chalk line, not f-ckin’ a tightrope
rap sl!cker, 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 b-lls
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 f-ckin’ 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 k!ll or get k!lled
mothaf-ckin’ police pull you over, slam you down
then tell you that your hood is their town
and i ain’t goin’ for no sh-t like that
cuff me up, take me to jail, i’ll come back
talkin’ much sh-t, ’cause i talk what the f-ck i feel
a few weeks in the county ain’t no big deal
so a punk like you can’t f-ck with me
that big ballin’–ss n-gga named king tee
you think you can? i don’t think that you can, though
peace to ice cube and breeze and the f-ckin’ piano

- king t

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