[Intro: Fes Taylor, (G-Clef Da Mad Komposa)]
Yeah, Chambermusik, Two 4 War Entertainment
Taylor, Yo Clef what it is baby, (It's nothing man) Uh huh
(Just let these fools know what time it is with you man)
[Fes Taylor]
They say Taylor falling off, Well it's a long drop from the top
Hard enough to make the concrete crack if I flop
And I still got crack on the block
So my income, It come like I'm cashing a lot
A fetish for j**elry your pa**ion is shot
Still, I threaten the jury, Blasting the Glock
See times pa**ing on the clock, I'm tryna take the batteries out
A G until the coroners carry me out
A salary ouch, Hurt a broke n***a's feeling
We ain't got college degrees, So my n***as dealing
Four wheel'n the drop, You see the ceiling
This n***a squealing, So we concealing
Only revealing when it comes to dealing with drama
That's nine llamas to your baby Momma
Shouts to Big Gill, Every dollar he invest
Some n***as talk about, Clef write it on the check
[Chorus 2X: Fes Taylor]
I'm a piano gangsta, I'm just playing with these keys
So much ice on they saying I'm a freeze
Like it's cold outside, Below zero degrees
Growing up, n***as on corners they was heroes to me
[Fes Taylor]
Ayo, I'm too cool to be a fool, Too fly to even do
Any type of s**er sh**, Just look how my hustle groove
I seen a couple crews crumble through the struggle too
Yeah I had to struggle too, Just to get comfortable
Nah that ain't enough for you, Hip Hop still got love for you
Tryna get something new for the summer group
I play the corner guzzle'n brews, Honies with hair do's
That stop stare and smile at my dudes
Since days one-four-two break bread, I'm the state champ
World wide, Can enter pa**port, Ain't scared
Now it's back to Park Hill, I'm Shaolin's finest
So now when they speak to me it's pardon me your highness
Inside of me feel like a part of me is dying
Cause I just got word that my Grandfather dying
So I'm still in the studio writing these hits
While n***as in the business still biting my sh**
[Chorus]
[Fes Taylor]
Might see me with Yung Budd, Hoes say I'm a young stud
Most n***as yelling one blood, I'm yelling one dove
It takes one slug to put you under the rug
Under a house, Picture a corpse covered with bugs
Cause you snitching, Caught, Crib covered with bugs
Not roaches, Speaking CD's think I'm talking bout d**
On the phones I ain't talking bout much
If you hear me saying that we eating listen I ain't talking bout lunch
Crunch n' Munch breaks the Fruity Pebble chain
Ruby red rains, Kind of like a booty of a dame
Wow, I raise my brow up like The Rock
Still down for a flip I get it twenty a whop
I sell it thirty a pop, But if I bag it
I can make sixty thousand at times, That's a lot
I guess I'm just a chip off the old block
You know first my Grand Pop's did it
Then my Pop's, Now it's my turn
[Chorus 4X]