[king tee] king tee's drunk again...yo, check this out: awww sh**, aw sh**, i
Wanna dedicate this song to all them motherf**ers out there that-that-that-
That-that-that-that (not again) perpentratin'...perpetratin'... perpin'
Tratin'. wait, rewind. (eh but yo...king tee, man, what is this? what is
This?)
Some cool sh** for the king's anthology,
And when i'm done, don't expect no apology.
Stupid motherf**ers shoulda stepped when i warned 'em.
I'm from the boondocks of compton, california.
I'm just anxious to whoop some a**,
I went to high school, but i flunked every cla**.
So what makes you think i give a f** about respect?
I'll put your b**h in check, and i'll bet
You won't run up, son of a punk and a b**h, too.
I shoulda did a drive by on you and your crew.
Cuz ya'll be poppin' some sh** that's unheard of.
For you, what's the word? uh...(wack!)...it's murder, son.
When i be crushin' your hood with a pa**ion,
And i ain't talkin' that action jackson.
When i come you better run for ammo,
Or get played like a f**in' piano...
And yo, we got my homeboy ice cube in the house from the motherf**in'
Lench mob (what's up, n******g?), and yo ice cube, i heard you're a singer now,
Man what's up? yo, yo...
[ice cube]
Do-ray-me. but i don't sing, mothaf**er.
I kick sh** with the king, mothaf**er.
Ice cube will clock the cash, rock the ma**,
And if you run up, i'll sock your a**.
And watch that eye get swollen,
Cuz i'm playin' punk n***as like beethoven.
So bust a cap or swing and die.
f** yul brynner, it's still the king and i.
Cuz where i'm from the sun don't shine,
So one-time hope i only bust one rhyme.
But i bust one more for the s**ers,
Last year i was ruthless, now i'm lenchin' mothaf**ers.
And you'll see in a tree, mcs and crews.
Now they're lookin' for me, king tee, and pooh.
Now every n***a that crossed me's soprano,
Cuz i played their a** like a f**in' piano...
[king tee] yo, check this out, we got my homeboy breeze in the
Motherf**in' house from the l.a. posse, and he got some sh** to holler. come
On, man, bust this sh**.
[mc breeze]
Well, i'm-a 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 bu*t.
You slipped and sh**, so nitwit, just get the nuts.
Stealin' your high hopes, watchin' you write notes,
Better walk a chalk line, not f**in' 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'm-a 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.
Cuz 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**in' piano.
[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** or get k**ed.
Mothaf**in' police pull ya over, slam ya down,
Then tell ya that your hood is their town.
And i ain't goin' for no sh** like that;
Cuff me up, take me to jail, i'll come back.
Talkin' much sh**, cuz i talk what the f** i feel,
A few weeks in the county ain't no big deal.
So a punk like you can't f** with me,
That big ballin'-a** n***a named king tee.
You think ya can? i don't think that you can, though.
Peace to ice cube and breeze, and the f**in' piano.