[King Tee]
King Tee's drunk again... Yo check this out, awww s*** aw s*** I
want to dedicate this song to all them m************ 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 s*** for the King's anthology
and when I'm done don't expect no apology.
Stupid m************ 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 class.
So what makes you think I give a f*** about respect?
I'll put your b**** in check, and I'll bet
you won't run up, son of a punk and a b****, too.
I shoulda did a drive by on you and your crew.
'cause ya'll be poppin' some s*** 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 f*****' piano...
And yo, we got my homeboy Ice Cube in the house from the m***********'
Lench Mob (what's up, n*****?), and yo Ice Cube, I heard you're a singer now,
man what's up? Yo, yo...
[Ice Cube]
Doh-Ray-Me. But I don't sing, m**********.
I kick s*** with the King, m**********.
Ice Cube will clock the cash, rock the mass,
and if you run up, I'll sock your a**.
And watch that eye get swollen,
'cause I'm playin' punk n***** like Beethoven.
So bust a cap or swing and die.
f*** 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 more for the suckers,
last year I was Ruthless, now I'm Lynchin' m***********.
And you'll see in a tree, MCs and crews.
Now they're lookin' for me, King Tee, and Pooh.
Now every n**** that crossed me's soprano,
'cause I played their a** like a f*****' piano...
[King Tee] Yo, check this out, we got my homeboy Breeze in the
m***********' house from the L.A. Posse, and he got some s*** to holler. Come
on, man, bust this s***.
[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 b***.
You slipped and s***, so nitwit, just get the nuts.
Stealin' your high hopes, watchin' you write notes,
better walk a chalk line, not f*****' 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 b****.
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.
'cause B-R-E-E-Z-E will eas-i-ly re-main to B-E a top MC.
When you see me, I wear a beanie, and not a Kangol.
Now you got played, like a f*****' 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 kill or get killed.
m**********' police pull ya over, slam ya down,
then tell ya that your hood is their town.
And I ain't goin' for no s*** like that;
cuff me up, take me to jail, I'll come back.
Talkin' much s***, 'cause 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**** named King Tee.
You think ya can? I don't think that you can, though.
Peace to Ice Cube and Breeze, and the f*****' piano.
King Tee's drunk again... Yo check this out, awww s*** aw s*** I
want to dedicate this song to all them m************ 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 s*** for the King's anthology
and when I'm done don't expect no apology.
Stupid m************ 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 class.
So what makes you think I give a f*** about respect?
I'll put your b**** in check, and I'll bet
you won't run up, son of a punk and a b****, too.
I shoulda did a drive by on you and your crew.
'cause ya'll be poppin' some s*** 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 f*****' piano...
And yo, we got my homeboy Ice Cube in the house from the m***********'
Lench Mob (what's up, n*****?), and yo Ice Cube, I heard you're a singer now,
man what's up? Yo, yo...
[Ice Cube]
Doh-Ray-Me. But I don't sing, m**********.
I kick s*** with the King, m**********.
Ice Cube will clock the cash, rock the mass,
and if you run up, I'll sock your a**.
And watch that eye get swollen,
'cause I'm playin' punk n***** like Beethoven.
So bust a cap or swing and die.
f*** 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 more for the suckers,
last year I was Ruthless, now I'm Lynchin' m***********.
And you'll see in a tree, MCs and crews.
Now they're lookin' for me, King Tee, and Pooh.
Now every n**** that crossed me's soprano,
'cause I played their a** like a f*****' piano...
[King Tee] Yo, check this out, we got my homeboy Breeze in the
m***********' house from the L.A. Posse, and he got some s*** to holler. Come
on, man, bust this s***.
[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 b***.
You slipped and s***, so nitwit, just get the nuts.
Stealin' your high hopes, watchin' you write notes,
better walk a chalk line, not f*****' 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 b****.
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.
'cause B-R-E-E-Z-E will eas-i-ly re-main to B-E a top MC.
When you see me, I wear a beanie, and not a Kangol.
Now you got played, like a f*****' 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 kill or get killed.
m**********' police pull ya over, slam ya down,
then tell ya that your hood is their town.
And I ain't goin' for no s*** like that;
cuff me up, take me to jail, I'll come back.
Talkin' much s***, 'cause 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**** named King Tee.
You think ya can? I don't think that you can, though.
Peace to Ice Cube and Breeze, and the f*****' piano.