[King Tee]
I run that old gangsterism on the normal
The name is King Tee, I pack guns like it's formal
With the utmost respect I be chillin
Knockin MC's out cause I'm the best in this building
I be the G-R-E-A-T, plus majestic
Magical, radical, the technique is hectic
I, floss upon the scene in the front and back Caddy
Yeah, here goes Big Daddy, heh
In my trunk I keep a whole fifth of 'gnac
in there with some extra hollow points for my strap
Cause I bust on fools, I shoot down fools that front
The last of the few with the funk
King Tipsy, who flips the, rhymes like I'm crazy
You know these artificial gangsters can't fade Tee
The original G, from the C-P-T
I'm no joke on the funk fool, you can't see me
"To all my people with the funk.." (Yeah)
You can't see me!
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can't see me!
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at-at-at?"
[King Tee]
Huh, I'm really into girls with fat cats
Hoochies, and hoes, and some hoodrats
I take 'em to the Snooty Fox for the spin
but if they real proper, we hit the Comfort Inn
I grab a fifth of Tanqueray and some Squirt
A fat bag of chronic then we're coolin like Levert
Turn on the porno flicks just to set the mood
Toss the bitch up and leave her ass in the room
Cause a bitch ain't shit like Snoop told it
All I do is toss and let the next man hold it
I chill at the bar because that's the spot
where a bitch'll get ten dollars just rubbin on the cock
Yeah, Tee bein a trick won't work
You won't spend my money on no (??)
and that's real, comin from a real-ass G
I'ma just toss yo' ass like a salad beatch, you can't see me
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can't see me!
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can't see me!
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
[King Tee]
Now I'ma take the third verse to the neck
then ask who's next and, ask who wrecks?
I bring Tha Alkaholik spirit to the room
Down two 40's, then hit the boom
Release all your doubts cause, I'm what it's about
The funky drunk man, in front with the stout
And niggaz wanna test the fashion
cause I bring passion, for those who's askin
I don't trip I just, hit the switch for the funk shit
I don't fuck with the punk shit
I slang my rap like crack, and niggaz be cluckin
A quick blast for the buck
then they spark, and yo oh, peace to Mark
for the beat from Carolina to the Compton streets
They'll know, the original G, from the C-P-T
I "Act a Fool" on the funk boy, you can't see me
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can't see me!
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can't see me!
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
"To all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
(really like to rock the funky beats) --> chuck d
[ verse 1 ]
The majestic great from the head to the toes
I ain't in a gang, I'm in my favorite clothes
But I can scrap with any enemies or foes
Cause I'm champion, just ask all my hoes
Please don't push, or you wish that you didn't
We're goin toe to toe, and it ain't no kickin
My moves are kinda slick and my punches be stickin
So put up your dukes, you little half-priced chicken
Don't brother-brother me, cause I ain't your kin
I'm aimin for the end, and I'm off that gin
Tee came to separate boys from the men
If I see another dance step, I'm shootin for the chin
I sag when I stroll, cause I'm known as a hood
I fuck real good, got trophies for the wood
Hub city hangin, I love shootin fakes
So bitch, make way for king tee tha great
Come on (say yeah)
(check it out y'all
You don't stop
Keep on) --> big daddy kane
[ verse 2 ]
Back on the block I got juice with the gees
I was writin rhymes while they picked up ki's
Yeah, I got homies that be throwin up b's
And I got family that be throwin up c's
But to the o.g.'s it's all about paper
Let's sling these birds and gangbang later
I gotta be the great, cause ain't nobody greater
A obvious rhyme would be e-swift is on the fader
Since I'm out west I bought a holster for my glock
Sittin on the roof [censored] at the muthafuckin cops
And the fuckin bitches that's burnin in a cock
And lord forbid, don't let me see my pops
Cause it'll be a buck-buck, and another buck-buck
I don't give a fuck, he left mom duke stuck
No remorse, cause I love shootin fakes
Yo, Pooh, man, what you build in there, man?
Ah, one of those hypso-change-o-calypso-beat-a-matics
There'll be another ruff rhyme
When I'm done there'll be another ruff rhyme
Another package from your slick Royal Highness
Pay attention, so you won't have to rewind this
Put yourself together for another funky clip
I bring a lotta magic, but this ain't no trick
It's pure skill I possess in my possession
A crazy rhythm and my funky horn section
And Pooh hyped up this funky ol' track
So I thought about it, I'm comin' I'm back
When I'm done
I'm back when I'm done
King Tee is back again
Now let me talk to ya to the best of my ability
About the kid that's rockin' this facility
I bring to you peace and tranquility
Don't try to front, 'cause I know you feel it, see
My beats are masculine, I think that there hasn't been
A better groove to keep you like dancing, man
I feel thankful to feel there ain't no
Sucker tryin' to gank my spot, least I think so
But I don't sweat, 'cause I can stand on my two feet
Hold the mic and just curse the beat
I don't complain about the crowd I attract
Roll out the red carpet, I'm comin', I'm back
When I'm done there'll be another ruff rhyme
King Tee is back again
There'll be another ruff rhyme when I'm done
I'm back, King Tee is back again
Well, this might seem odd
You ask who taught me, well, it musta been God
'Cause ain't none of y'all cool like me
The impresario, majestic Tee
Some rappers are scared of me, they say when they dare to be
Threatened, well, keep on steppin', I'll be prepared to be
Jacked, Jack, cause your rhymes don't match
You got bold when I left, now I'm back
To stomp you, 'cause you stomp wrong, so I'ma stomp on
Fool, you forgot, I'm from Compton
This is just a taste of my album, really nothin'
Just to show you I'm back, I'm comin'
When I'm done, there'll be another ruff rhyme
King Tee is back again, there'll be another ruff rhyme
When I'm done, there'll be another ruff rhyme
King Tee is back again, there'll be another ruff rhyme
Back again, back again, back again
There'll be another ruff rhyme
There'll be another ruff rhyme
When I'm done, there'll be another ruff rhyme
Ruff rhyme, ruff rhyme, ruff rhyme
(Dance floor, baby)
Ha, ha, what's happenin'?
What's goin' on, man?
Chillin', Finna do somethin' a lil' different
You know what I'm sayin'?
Got my man E-Swift in the house
E-Swift, you wanna dance?
Alright come on, let's dance now
Bust it
Goin' out on the rhythm and blues tip
With my man Rashad and Bronick
We got Bob in the house, yeah
And I'mma bust it off like this
On the first verse, check this out, bust it
Now dancers, here's another hit for your collection
Take a deep breath, let's start sketchin'
Moves for the dancers to get into
I'mma wait on you, now here's your menu
Just order what you want 'cause you know
I can rock a slow or a swing tempo
So swing to it, it ain't nothin' but a good feelin'
And if you're willin' I'mma tell you the deal then
I got to see you move it
(On the dance floor, baby)
Yo, that's how we doin 'it in 1990
You know what I'm sayin'?
I got to see you move it
(On the dance floor, baby)
Yeah
(Get funky with it)
Ain't it funky now
Hold up, hold up
What I wanna do right here is talk to all the dancers
That call they selves dancers but they really can't dance
I'm gonna teach you how to do it, alright?
Check this out
Now all you gotta do is get loose
Yeah, show you got juice
If punks wanna jump, run 'em up and I shoot
Slick, slick poetry for those who got couth
And if you'll dance even if you can't dance
Enhance a rhythm that'll glance
Up against your body as the music just swings
Knockin' out the suckers, now who's left?
(King)
Tee, yeah, that's me, see
The cool gangster, the gangster, that's me
So just skip while I make that grip
Don't worry about a thing, I'm on a dancin' tip
I got to see you move it
(On the dance floor, baby)
Yeah, like that, yeah, y'all doin' it right
Check this out, E-Swift
I got to see them movin'
(On the dance floor, baby)
Alright, yeah, where?
(On the dance floor, baby)
Do what you want
Let's have some fun y'all
Now keep on movin', better yet keep steppin'
You know, from the right to the left and
Dance all night till your knee caps break
You can do the Biz Markie, then the Heavy D Shake
If you like to boogie from sun to the moon
Well, cut the rug to my rhythm and blues tune
Just remember if the phonograph skips
Don't worry about a thing, we're on a dancin' tip
And I got to see you move it
(On the dance floor, baby)
Yeah, yeah, come on, come on, come, E-Swift
We got to see you move it
(On the dance floor, baby)
Yeah, peace, I'm outta here
Do what you wanna do
On the dance floor, baby
I know you got the feelin', let's dance
Let's have some fun
On the dance floor, baby
I know you got the feelin', let's dance
On the, I know you got the feelin', let's dance
On the, on the, have some fun
[king tee]
Check this out
Hey, I knew this nigga named johnnie walker
A nightstalker, a big shit-talker
Even though he liked a lot of vodka (say what? )
He was from tennessee, sprung off hennessey
Makin enemies fast - in l.a.n. they didn't play (what? )
He got into a tanque/tangle with +ray+, he had on too much gray
Ray had a strawberry sister named daquiri
Johnnie politely her ass behind the back three
Now, all four uncles e&j; wanna tossi
Martini and rossi had to get the niggaz off me
He got jacked for his dana's, in other words
(give it up nigga, give it up!)
He caught the nighttrain and blasted his thunderbird
With the pistol, him and cisco, couldn't stand him
Cause he caught him lickin brandy off his sister named kandi
At this point he had more bad luck than a trash truck
He lost his girl, remi spent his last buck up
Remi caught him shootin game at elayne, so now
Flowers and champagne don't mean a damn thang
Remi ended up runnin off with martin
He was wanted for arson for startin fires in carson
So johnnie hired a gun named rum, and paid him
151 and the job got done
With a thirty-eight straight to the face
He caught him in a six-pack and got they ass back
Up close he made 'em post and broke all their glasses
(? ) and rum threatened their families with matches
He felt he needed more men just like gin
So he packed his strap and started claimin silver satin
From then on in, anybody caught bailin
Down seagram's 7 was bound to get sweated
Except bartyles and james, cause they was cool
He knew 'em from school when they didn't bang and made moves
Turns out, he never reached the top
They found his ass at the beach "on tha rox"
Well, it's a hot, hot Sunday, jump up around a quarter to ten
Had to run and get this blunt that I left in my Benz
I lit the shit and caught a early mornin' buzz
And called my nigga E, "What up, loc? What up, cuz?"
I'm thinkin' 'bout pullin' out the trey for performance
And maybe hit a few corners
I let the batteries charge while the kids stood waitin'
For me to hit the switch and floss the Daytons
I tap my shit, yo, my shit was hot
So I drove her straight down to the wash spot
They shine my shit up real glossy
Suckers starin' but my shit jumps like Kriss Kross G
So fuck what ya heard 'cause my trey does flips
The super-clean three with the lifts
I guess I got my whole day planned and I'm trippin'
Quick to hit the switch, so let's go dippin'
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
Now I'm rollin', cocked up, flossin' down the street
I took Imperial to the beach but before I arose on the scene
I saw the individuals rollin' like a team
Drove a little bit further, saw mafia for life
Without a doubt everything was tight
But they gotta watch out for the King
'Cause I can make my sixty-three sing
No pigs 'round, no, I ain't no sucka
I'm doin' sixty, just hangin' this muthafucka
[Unverified] is what counts, so I show it
Even if it means I gotta total it
Swervin' from lane to lane, a Cadillac just ain't the same
If you don't know what I mean and ya sittin'
Come on, get in, let's go dippin'
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
I felt like Cube 'cause today was a good day
For me to act the fool in my trey
I'm not worried 'bout a sucka tryin' to stick and rob
I just buck 'em down with my thirty-odd
Creeped up to the beach, packed to capacity
Hoes walkin' by, "Hi, Your majesty"
I said I'm not Young MC but what's the flava
I played it like Troop 'cause I'm not [Unverified]
I park my shit on three wheels 'cause I'm ill
Compton's on the set with the real deal
This one's for the riders all around the world
Dippin' through the hood wit your girl
Bumps in the back, sunroof top
Niggas lookin' crazy, so I'm reachin' for the gloc
Every hood knows where the blood and are crippin'
Ain't nothin' like a Sunday out, just dippin'
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
Let's go dippin', dippin' through the streets
[singers]
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
[king tee]
Huh, for your convenience I'm fully equipped with the madness
Plus I bring joy to the sadness
Mr. insane chose to bring the noise
I flex out the best out, and I brought my boys
For the function, wait bring the pumps and the bumps in
Niggaz wanna trip I got pumps in my trunk then
I rule all I survey, bust a move
Ain't nothin changed but the God damn groove
I bring forth fat shit on the money
Homies wanna trip but I'm chillin with the honies
My girl (? ) and nikki nicole, gets papes
I brought sable just for old time's sake
The real ruler wrecks records, I mean wrecks wombs
But now I got the psychadelic tune
I dedicate this to my true black sisters
Niggaz bump this while they rollin on them twisters
[singers]
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
[king tee]
Yo I told you man I don't play around with the music
I'm funkdafied, blowin up acoustics
I'm rather remarkable when I kick the matter
Skilled in the field of rough grammar
I electrify and intoxicate the moment
I branch out and crush my opponent
It's +super nigga+ in the skies, wild mannered
Reportin on the sound, you got to gets down
Like I toldja, and peep you can write it in your book
Cause, yo - that's that shit with that soul train hook, yeah
The blackness gets stronger, the soul gets deep
Make room for the alkaholik sheik
I persist to be the infinite all-time great
I'm told that my name gained weight
Since the past, so hell, let me take it on the blast
Yo yo, pass the rug before I bust my ass
[singers]
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
[king tee]
Hey nig bust the funk, I feel somethin comin
+tales from the crypt+ or I might just be buggin
No propoganda, I stand outstander
A +outkast+, like them kids from atlanta
I perform microphone exorcism on rappers
I cast out the demon from them bastards
And oh nikke, you did the track, what's the plan?
Step to the mic and show these hookers how to slam
[nikke nicole]
Flash for a style, nikke is the picture
Open as I enter, I'd like to send a
Track that's fat, constant non-stoppin
From brooklyn to compton, my shit is stompin
.. I like to parlay on the ave
Every now and then smoke a blunt, sip a heineken
I know a king named tee, tha alkaholik
"i can rock a rhyme no matter how you call it"
Produce hits from the bassment
I make loops, if they're used, I replace 'em
Nikke nicole, the soul sound, bring the whole crew
We can all get down..
[singers]
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
Let's get it onnnnn.. it's time to get down
(intro)
Ko rock stuff(scracth)
Dj pooh:
I like to make funky beats and record'em
Sell'em to the top mc's that can afford'em
Back in the days at school in our pavilion
Bangin' on the desk makin' beats worth a million
Still in the groove with all the beats I remember
Lock in my brain from january to december
I don't need a band to get behind and stand
"yo pooh" ,what
Rock the beat with you hand(scratch)
Pooh plays drums (scratch freestyle)
Ko rock stuff (scratch)
King tee:
Yo pooh,i've been watchin' you 'cause you're like a master
I'm only tellin' them this because I hasta
See,you're unique
You got your own physique
Style is kinda neat
And it comes from the street
Complete to fill the room
Never out of tune
Pooh,show'em what you mean by boom
Dj cool pooh (scratch freestyle)
All you wack mc's that say a rhyme that lingers
You wack dj's a.k.a. butter fingers
How do you think you can come in competition
You're rockin' for fun
I'm for real
I'm on a mission
>from the old school,but I'm not an oldie
Just like the mack
In fact,call me goldie
Rough like an italian who just watched rocky
Or return of the wack disc jockey
Pooh play drums (scratch)
It's smooth and yet it's kinda rough
Not your average stuff
To be outstanding you must
In this profession you're a scientist
I'm not lyin' this
Beat is so funky
It's messin' with my sinus
Other procedures should just resign
Mc's put the l.a. posse in mind
Because that's where pooh's from
So let the story be told
Everything that he touch (scratch)
Ha's sales gold (scratch)
Yo I'm king tee and I do the kool rappin'
A funky combination it's hard to imagine
Pooh with his cuts and his beats
Me with the rhyme and I got a whole heap
Of'em,i'm here to talk and
Conversate about a kid named pooh
So knowledge this,pay attention
I'm referring to you
About a genius I think I said enough
Pooh you can finish with me
Ko rock stuff
Ko rock stuff (scratch)
Pooh play drums (scratch freestyle)
Hay-ya!
'sup
Got my homeboy jazzy ren in the house
This is the mighty king tee
And my homeboy dj aladdin is in the place
Blunt-smokin mike
And i'ma flaunt these lyrics right here
Moves - I got moves for the mind
Kind of weary but if you hear me, you'll find
No one could conquer the kingdom I resurrected
Perfected this, watch out, there's a hectic
Man on the stage, screamin out a page I wrote
The type of shit mc's wanna quote
And get broke off somethin real swell
Cause I can tell you try to swell when you bail
But you ain't big, don't try to stick out your chest
Just phantasize you bein the best
Not a clear picture, huh, not vivid
Mediocre mc's can't deal with this
And what you're hearin now is tha great
(is that right? - oh yeah, he's back, for haven's sake)
Yes, I'm comin, I'm bringin what you're wantin
It might sound like I'm goin off, but hey, I'm just flauntin
(suckers try to knock him but they never succeed)--> w.c.
Back at home I got a throne where I sit
Piecin up metaphoric bits
My style is the quiet, cool gangster type
But when the 40 hits, it gets hype
Niggas can't understand and trip
When I be rockin that old school shit
That I used to play when I rolled like a professional
Hittin side to side in my fo'
Flauntin the technique just like when I speak
My words come above the average peak
E can get swift with a scratch
( *e-swift scratches a quote* )
People keep askin: does king tee still have his coupe?
Or will he flip and make a song like 'knockin' boots'?
Come on, hop, picture that on a flick
I ain't goin out like a trick
No matter what you do, I always pop up, troop
(like what? ) sort of like if I was wild rumour
And this is how you pump it when you're livin in compton
Cause it ain't about nothin but flauntin
(suckers try to knock him but they never succeed)
Yeah, I'm just flauntin'
(suckers try to knock him but they never succeed)
Break it down
(suckers try to knock him but they never succeed)
Come on
Now homes! (what up? ) homes!
I need headphones to hear the funky tones
No more switchin, I'll pitch the bitch and
Now we're gonna swing
With the coolest king
The imperial
I'm the one that makes you go buy your stereo
So you can hear me flow
And bro, on the microphone I'm a flexer
You got played, and on the mic you're a extra
I go deep for the dope style and I stay sharp
Frame my lyrics up like art
Mc's keep on runnin cause my tracks are stunnin
Back in '85 is where I spun, and
Up jumps the crowned royal king of cool rap
And when I rock the joint, they be like "who's that
Fly rappin nigga? !" and rappers be like, "pull the trigger
Let's assassinate king tee tha great"
But faith keeps me on top of the crop
With a 40oz. of beer and a blunt full of pot
And this is for the suckers that be frontin
It's king tee tha great, in '92 I'm just flauntin
Baby!
Just flauntin'
I wanna say peace to my homeboys dj aladdin and dj pooh
My homeboy mc jazzy ren
Blunt-smokin mike
Youknowmsayin?
And we outta here
.. "it's the joint!"
[king tee]
Yo whassup, it's king tee on the vocals
I rock the coolest rhymes, from here to acapulco
I drive a cadillac, not a played out desoto
Look I'm fin' to pose, photographer take my photo
Cool is back, in fact I'm comin exact
It's mc breeze and king tee, and pooh on the track
So we all got together, and thought of a freestyle
Gather round the stage, and come see how
Pros go for what they know and get paid for it
And I brung along the breeze, so you can enjoy it
.. and to fans I'm an idol
It's me and breeze, "just clowning" is the title
Get up what's happening? i'm a king, not a captain
Do the most coolest rappin, talk smack I'll be gat'n
I'm the king tee punk, and I don't talk junk
But I do smoke blunt, love rappin to funk
You know the mic is like a vine I swing on it like tarzan
I drink a coke and hit a note like barbara streisand
Step up, fess up, stand around and
Get down to the song "just clowning"..
.. "it's the joint!" (repeat 4x)
[mc breeze]
Well I happen to be, hopin to be, a big-timer
A dope rhyme and you won't find a
Nother mc who can get with this program
Served by no one, I mean no man
You say I'm good it's the truth, you're not soupin
I take it as a compliment and keep troopin
Unlike most you know I never stop flowin
My name is mc breeze cause I'm the master at blowin
Rhymes and lyrics, that is my specialty
I'm high-fidelity, you can't mess with me
Don't even think you can just sneak up
On bein number one, is a high that I'm stuck on
I'm on a mission, wishin, all the time you spend
That you would make a legend or a monument
I'm not souped up, or a pooh-butt
I only lay my voice on a track that pooh cuts
A beat is like food for thought so I eat it
I'm feelin kinda hungry pooh so just feed it
Keep the bass poundin I like the way it's soundin
Pooh is gettin ill while me and tee are "just clowning"
.. "it's the joint!" (repeat 2x)
[king tee]
I've been rappin for a while, I'm acquirin chapstick
Like a magician with the mic I do a hat trick
I don't wear a cape, or perform at a sideshow
Let me hit the 40 cause my throat is kinda dry yo
When I'm on stage it's like a broadway play
King tee and mc breeze and jennifer holiday
But breeze, my throat's gettin so'
{*rasping*} get on the mic and won'tcha give it a go
[mc breeze]
Clowning, is like actin ill sometimes
But when I ill, I like to say a dumb rhyme
To increase my fame and star stature
I'm like anita baker I'm caught up in the "rapture"
Hittin like bolos when I go solo
Last name is spanish but yo, I'm not a cholo
Keep the bass poundin, I like the way it's soundin
Pooh is gettin ill while me and tee is "just clowning"
[king tee]
But but but breeze.. you know me and you can clown right, right?
We gotta see if.. mixmaster spade can do it
.. "it's the joint!"
[mixmaster spade]
Well it's tuesday night, I got nuttin to do
I guess I'll get on the phone and call dj pooh
Say "whassup pooh? are you beat? "
He say "forget that stuff, let's hit the street"
Since I got a caddy, and you got a z
I can roll witchu, or you can ride with me
I say "we goin to a club that's dynamite" (where? !)
The red onion on a tuesday night
I walked in and glanced, shook a few hands
Grabbed the baddest broad, then I commence to dance
I looked the dj, and said "whassup? "
He said "spade's in the place and he's +doin the butt+"
Now I'm back to the rap that we have at hand
I'm the mixmaster man with the master plan
I slapped the girl on the butt then she started to frown
And ..
[king tee]
Yo spade, cool out! man, we "just clowning"
[Verse 1]
Just another night in my Philly
Will get dreams ain't worth a penny
We celebrate life every night, toast a (?)
I feel it in me, it's frustratin' enough
to watch the lil' homies on the grind tryin' to come up.
But look at me: the older generation O.G.
Tryin' to shake these nine-ounce into a key
Thinkin' major, knowin' all the time I need to save ya; the anger
I thank the feds for playin' on my pager!
Huh, but in still I smash out without fright
And raise the six hundred headlights through the night
Keep it tight! My reputation stands well
Cuz all the good niggas are either dead or in jail
Let's ?pretend? For one second hustlas who had riches
Stop flossin' for these fake ass bitches
Puttin' all these G's turned snitches but it's (?) these days
Ya homeboy will put you in ya grave
[Chorus: 2x]
And I don't wanna die but if I do
Homies, don't cry! I did so much dirt I should fry
And, loc, sometimes I don't wanna come outside
But I'm all G'up, so let's ride!
[Verse 2]
I wake up every morning the same
?Hollowed? with my grains
Peepin' out my window for the change
But all I see is pain. I sold out my soul for the game
Familiar. Dat's why I gang bang, dat's why I slang caine.
I gots to maintain for what's I head
My baby-momma bringin' mo' drama than the feds.
But I ain't scared of all the automatic full of lead
I'm proof for the livin' walkin' dead!
I'm rollin' wit some niggas prepared for anything, anywhere
Anytime fag in the hood are over there.
Dat's my outlook on life until it ends
A pocket full of chips and a Benz.
Shakin' all them so-called friends because they scheme and they plot
To lay me down and get what I got
We're runnin' off their spots wit glocks and fo-fo's like vets
And before I leave I cross out their set!
[Chorus: 2x]
[Interlude:]
"But, you know, it's like everybody I hear
wanna be a tough guy killa, a gangsta, you understand?
But, ah, most of the gangstas and killas I know (?) dead"
[Verse 3]
I don't wanna die but I see the devil's walkin' his flame (?)
Callin' my name like he know me
I pray dat god (?) his (?) foe me, show me a sign!
I be right here on the front line in this war zone
Tryin' to get mine before it's time.
But as I step over bodies dat I peeled
The vision hell's angels and the field (?)
Wavin' at me, getting close witta fat grin on the (?)
But they always take the niggas dat I killed
G, the situation is ill, I feel my turn's probably next
Dat's why I sport a bulletproof vest, but I stress
All it takes is one shot to the dome
Now your family's sittin' in the front row when you're gone
Get Swift
(Everybody's dancin?)
Get swift
(Quiet on the set)
DJ Pooh's in the house
But yo, this is for my deejay
Alright, check this out
This is for you little weak deejays
The weak record spinner, the weak P.A.
Whoever's in charge of the turntable equipment
You haven't heard cuts until you heard the ones Swift gets
Yes, when I rhyme he keeps the break flowin? steadily
Never off-beat, so suckers can't get ahead of me
Your deejay's had it, we're terminatin? his membership
E's back, now come again with some different shit
You wanna learn about cuttin? and scratchin? and mixin?
He'll be fixin? to show you some good tricks and
A new style shown to those that's worthy
Lord have mercy, he's number uno, first, E
Swift, we call him Swift
Because he's swift on the cut and scratch
No one can match or catch, then stand back
For those who wanna see him, I give you a good tip
Have a seat and watch E get swift
Watch him
(Are you ready?)
Watch
Yeah
Watch E get Swift
(Are you ready, ready, ready, ready?
Hey, listen to the man)
Now what you just saw is probably funky to you
You and your crew
(But what about them girls?)
Them too
Who wants to step up, some never kept up
They wanna flex up, so E-Swift wrecks up
Shop, hops, so how could you diss E?
You need to play like Janet and just miss me
With that conversation, that blah-blah-sation
E, bust a rap while I go on vacation
E-Swift, the golden deejay with the knack to make a track
To make you dance till your back snap
Pooh on the drum, the cuts, mine
K I N G Tee writes the rhyme
So wack deejays who run off at the lip
The ones who talk shit while your records skip
In a battle
(Battle him)
You need mo' practice
My cuts are more sharper than the needles on a cactus
Yo, that was dope, E-Swift
Check this out
But you got some dope scratches and cuts
Yo, yo, yo, bust it
Turn it out, DJ
Turn it out, listen up, Mr. Deejay
Listen up, hey, listen to the man
He is the master of a scratch, huh, huh
Well, it's the musically drunken King Tee with the fifth of funk
Guaranteed to make you jump like my 12 gauge pump, huh
I've been around since the days of the Sugarhill groove
Bust it out with act a fool
When I was seventeen, made some mad-ass green
Bought a six-fo' and some more gold things
Had to play the part for the G's on the block
So I bought a blue rag, bought a black glock
Ran with the bunch that was out to get paid
The Westside of Compton over where the dead laid
On [Unverified] and Central, where niggaz get mental
For a dollar, makin' punk niggaz holla
I used to kick it on my front porch, drinkin' some 'gnac
While the homies stripped cars in the back
Lifestyles of the short and broke
Ain't worried bout shit, 'cause I'm a down ass loc
So break the nigga off when you come to my hood
'Cause the little B.G.'s, is up to no good
Jackin' motherfuckers for they Dana Dane's
Got 'em jumpin' out they shit like the house of pain
So break the nigga off when you come to my hood
'Cause the little B.G.'s, is up to no good
Jackin' motherfuckers for they Dana Dane's
Got 'em jumpin' out they shit like the house of pain
Yeah, a young man with the grown man's gun
Tryin' to stay full while he's livin' in the slum
I used to bang on fools like I was goin' insane
From a notorious Compton gang
It's King Tee, strapped "IV Life"
'Cause I don't trust niggaz, I use the middle finger for the trigger
Ease back, watch bullets, flock through the sky
For the homies that died and don't know why
It's the crazy motherfucker with the hot-ass tec
Makin' hard niggaz hit the deck
Lifestyles of the short and broke
Ain't worried bout shit, 'cause I'm a down ass loc
So break the nigga off when you come to my hood
'Cause the little B.G.'s, is up to no good
Jackin' motherfuckers for they Dana Dane's
Hello, I should diss you
Excuse me, lady, you're lookin' real nice
Where you been, I been lookin' for you all my life
So how's about lunch with a winner?
Then again it's kinda late, so what's up with dinner?
At my place or my place or my place or my place
By the fireplace or the candle light
About 7 or make that 8 o'clock tonight
Make up your mind, let's wine and dine
Get with me or back up off my line
'Cause I can't wait for you to call me
You're steppin' on your suit the very second you saw me
I thought you said that I'm the only one
That can send chills up and down your [Unverified]
Gold rings and estate, too
(Hello, is this you?)
Man, I should diss you
Yo, I been waitin' all night long
And you didn't even ring my phone
I should diss you
Since you tried to play me like booty
I just feel that it's my duty
I should diss you
So don't give me no excuse
But before I cut you loose
I should diss you
And there's nothin you can say
And there's nothin you can do
I'ma diss you, I'ma diss you
Diss you
You claimed you would stick like super glue
But you're low, down and dirty, so I'm dissin' you
Yeah, I'm dissin' you, I won't be missin' you
I won't be kissin' you, I hope you're listenin', too
'Cause I realized that I'm real fly
So see ya later, bye
'Cause you only get one chance at this
You played me wrong, so I'ma diss you, miss
For the fact that you thought that I could get done
The K I N G Tee ain't the one
So miss me with all that stuff you're talkin'
I know you're sorry, but keep on walkin'
On about your business, I'm almost finished
Tyin' up loose ends, and
Let the door hitcha' where the dog should bitcha'
Even though I should dissed you
* not 100% sure this is the mc's name
[chorus]
We got them, sledge, (? ) ruff heads (check the flow)
King tee's on the set (check the flow)
When niggaz try to get high-tech (check the flow)
The dialect's on the flex
[sledge]
Watch this, when I shine I bring rain
Clouds, bust storms, yo, this ain't the norm
When I perform, I get you up out your seat
Get down with the real deal skills, then chill
Then show your ass how to get amped, then lamp
Stretch, flex, then tackle what's next
Cause mc's, that luck up, need to hush up
Who can't brush up, on their rap style, shut the fuck up
Then duck from the one that gets buck-wild
I chop your ass in half, with a smile
Big grin, all teeth, for those who got beef
Fuckin with me ock, you're six feet deep
Down in the ground, alone with no sound
While I'm up here chillin, top billin
And illin, on all those, who oppose
I wanna take one more shot, strike a pose, uhh!
[chorus]
[king tee]
Smash, here comes the one that talks trash
To garbage mc's, who try to diss me
And my crew - the ill ville animal cannibal
Backbreakers, government amputators
Bounce to this if you think you know the hits
And all you gassed-up critics, put the brakes on the shit
Cause I'm tired of this, and I'm tired of that
Motherfuckers sayin king tee's shit was wack
But in fact, my rhymes crack backs and make money stacks
By the truckload, now let's go for the gold
So strap on your seatbelt yo and let's go
And get down, to the sound that burns quick
Cause I'm about to burn rubber, on this number
And any mc who claims his style is legit
Suckers wanna try me? (I know not why tee)
I light that ass up like the 4th of july g, uhh!
[chorus]
[t] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo
[s] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo
[t] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo
[s] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow
[sledge]
Capital s-l, crooked letter humpback fuck that
Thump that, shit that's never wack
Cause this goes out too all the niggaz that we rushin
To hear the shit I'm bustin over ruptured percussion
It ain't my fault that I'm layin niggaz down like asphault
And blow your ass away like chalk, dust
Then crush your monkey-ass unto the side
Cause wrecked dialect is causin lyrical genocide
[king tee]
I stress facts like irs wants tax
From anyone claimin that they're livin, kind of fat
You see, I could get sick in the thick of shit
I turn my toes up, when it goes up, my foe's butt
Hey nigga back-steps, even you can get hit
I'm more crankier than a bitch on the shit!
Niggaz get heated cause they just got defeated
By the two man team, the sledge and the king, uhh!
(suck my dick)
Yeah
Check it out y'all
I see tha alkaholiks just stepped in the house
In the middle of vocals
Check this out
Bobcat's in the house
Big mac's in the house
And all the bitches in -
Check - wait
Speakin of bitches, you know
Check this shit out
[ verse 1 ]
Hoes don't know, man, hoes don't know
All they have to do is blow my socks off and go
And ain't no need to kick it, cause we're not goin out
No movies, no grub, no pancake house
I thought you knew the deal, I thought you knew who I was
I spring for the budge, so you can get a buzz
If you're a real cutie we can hop to the snooty
And I slap that and tap that and wax that booty
Just ask all your friends, they'll tell you the proof
Give your sole to the lord and hand me the boots
Cause I can make em scream, I can make em holler
Don't ask me for no change, cause I won't give a dollar
Cause bitches be trippin when you ain't got the ends
You ain't got the benz, well, you ain't got the skins
So I don't play the games, cause these hoes been tossed
Straight out, you little hooker, just blow my socks off
(gobblin up nuts, sort of like a humming bird)--> ice cube
(suck my dick)
(suck my dick)
[ verse 2 ]
Blow it, baby, blow it, then lick them nuts
Boy, you drive me nuts, socks fly when you suck
My ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-lingy, long like a slinky
Let me reach around and tease your nipple with my pinky
Tramp, don't front, I know you're out there skeezin
Kam said you do it like 'every single weekend'
Walkin round the club straight lookin for a trick
But tee'll never slip, cause I never trick my dick
Hoes try to flip sayin that I look tacky
Even though I'm dipped in a fresh pair of khakis
And got the nerve to say I'm bony and I'm phoney
Just because I won't take your ugly ass around my homies
Cause I know you wanna fuck the whole crew
First starvin and bobcat, wavey and pooh
So I don't play the games, cause these hoes been tossed
Straight out, you little biatch, just blow my socks off
(gobblin up nuts, sort of like a humming bird) --> ice cube
(suck my dick)
(suck my dick)
[ verse 3 ]
Like I said in the first verse, I can make em holler
And king tee won't turn down nothin but the collar
Not lookin for a lover, just a good dick sucker
Jimmy'll rise when I hear the lips pucker
Suckin and smackin, gaggin and slurpin
Grab you by the head, cause your tongue keep workin
A bitch'll stand up and say that she don't give head
That bitch'll suck your dick like she was bein cum-fed
So (blow me, blow me) even though you don't know me
(show me, show me) and then show my homie
And I don't play the games, cause these hoes been tossed
Straight out, you little hooker, just blow my socks off
(gobblin up nuts, sort of like a humming bird) --> ice cube
(suck my dick)
(suck my dick)
Yeah
Straight out to all them compton hoes
Ya know what I'm sayin
Bobcat's on the funky track
Tha alkaholiks in the house
And that's how we do
Smokin em muthafuckas
No justice, no peace then, mr. policeman
Save a life for your kids and your wife
No more donuts and coffee
And I'll be back once I get off these concrete streets
Infrared scope and I'm mad as fuck
I'm on the roof tryin to duck from the pigs, cause they suck
Pick em all one by one, cause they all got a strap
Tryin to beat us with the stick and the gat
Lookin at the news and now I see pals
Carlton, koons, hearns comin up sooner than he thought
It might be at a stop light or maybe at the station
Either way it go, I'm stilll makin bacon
Stuff him with a apple in his mouth, make sure he's gaffled
Tie his ass up and bring him back to my castle
Throw him in the dungeon, leave his badge and his gun
In the car, turn it upside down, burn it up
And let it blaze, all I got left is one guage
I slung all the ones that I brung from the gun
Store, I gotta get at least three more
And I could give a fuck what you think I got em for
And all the king's hoes and all the king's men
Go try to put this shit black together again
Come on
12 whites on a black, what's next?
Pull a man out his truck and get stretched
I got a grudge with the judge
Cause he don't show no love for chocolate fudge
He only likes vanilla
But we do all the work like cinderella?
And I'll be damned if I get paid at a minimum wage
While they afford to eat like a smorgasbrod feast
And leave us here down in the dumps
The place where donald trump would get his ass jumped
Slavin at mickey d's for 4 bucks and a quarter
And can't afford a big mac with a soda
The biggest crooks, the biggest thugs there ever was
Was the ones that they vote for and hope for
Quicker than a zig-zag, they got big bags
Fill em to the ceilin, now who's doin the killin?
Then they point the finger at the young male black
Workin two jobs, so he gotta sell crack
So all the king's hoes and all the king's men
Go try to put this shit black together again
Come on
Let's do it like the wild wild west
Take off your holster and your gat and let's scrap
But porkey the pig don't wanna get em up
Unless you got your hands in some cuffs
Will I break the law if I break your jaw?
Turn around take two steps and draw
And make sure your plastic kill
Cause I came to get busy for real
So when you jump in my fo'
Make sure you slam the do'
And no bullshit on my flo'
Cause all the king's hoes and all the king's men
Help put this shit black together again
[king tee]
Yes yes y'all, it's not a secret no more
The king b-boy tee has been washed ashore
And I'm back I'm here to say if I'm a king then I should rule
I'm the best for the job, you know why?
(why? !) cause I'm cool..
.. see i'm
Smoother than silk, cooler than an icicle
Rough like a bully, I'm rollin like a bicycle
Fresh like a virgn calculates like a math wiz
You think you're bad? i'ma show you what bad is
Microphone magician, it's the end when I start
A confidential differential, I'm the state of the art
Crowned king b-boy, the elite rap reverand
Master of the ceremony twenty-four/seven
Mc's don't fear me, I come in peace, ha
Drapped in fila, or either elise
Cause I'm the cool wop dancer, girlies romancer
Suckers stay away I'll mess you up like cancer
My style is original, not a subliminal
You say to yourself there's no one better, than him you know
Bustin all bustaz, killin all killers
Tacklin mc's like a pittsburgh steeler
I'm bolder than bold, I wear a lot of white gold
The supreme king tee, I've got things in control
Skeezers wanna clock me while I'm on my way to school
You don't, have to ask why, you know the reason..
.. he's cool!
{*dj scratches*}
I got a white gold crown, white gold ropes
Sleep on white sheets, ski on white slopes
Supreme to be exact you know I'm cooler than most
When God gave out coolness, I took a whole dose
I won't bother or nag you, to rhyme I'll be glad to
You thought I couldn't get you but I already had you
I know you heard my dj, is he good or what?
Keith cooley is a killer, your dj's a mutt
I wouldn't try to take him on he'll cut you up like a biologist
He'll be the tutor, and I'm the talk-ologist
You think he's new, well for you I feel sorry
Cause see, he's been around since uncle jam's army
Cool impresario, majority ruler
I got a lot of money - go ask my jewler
Def in the flesh is the cool king tela
I talk more noise than j&d;'s talk fila
I'm the most coolest and I sit on the throne
Givin the latest fashions silver shines like chrome
The king your royal highness better known as a cool rider
Got a forty of olde e then I'll ask, let me try this
Coolest of cool and my rhymes are essential
To see me, guardians have to be parental
Me and keith, are the teachers of the new cool school
But not only that, I gotta tell you somethin.. I'm cool!
Keith cooley!
{*dj scratches*}
I can't rhyme about crack, I'm not the one to be tellin it
The ones sayin don't are the ones that's sellin it
I can't cope in other words I can't feel it
If crack was a monster, then I'd kill it
Cause I'm rough and I'm tough, and I come from l.a.
Yo my name is king tee and I'm here to stay
I got the courage of a bull, words of a wizard
Hotter than sex, cooler than a blizzard
Leader of the land, commander and the chief
Bigger and bolder other words I got beef
I got a posse at that, mostly, cold chillin
Yours make thousands, mines make millions
Not at all a gangsta cause I never do crimin
I make a lot of money, by just cool rhymin
Not doin it cause I want to but I'm doin it cause I hasta
Coolest of the cool and plus I rule the rap classes
Yeah my stuff is funky, and I'm the rap junkie
Slammin sucka punks like a hurricane bundy
And for the rap race place your bet on the king
I run like quicksilver, fly like I had wings
To you it seems like that I'm braggin a lot
But I'm saggin a lot, because money I got
I'm the mc dismantler, lyrical manipulator
Eightball drinker, the new cool innovator
I'm king tee, keith cooley is the dj
No fakin or frontin, turntables do what he say
Cuttin like a ginsu, makin bets against you
The girlies go wild, keith prove that he can dance to
Fila we wear, won't promise or swear
Don't get too much comp cause mc's I tear
In half, and laugh, cause it's just so hilarious
To walk in a jam, and see the most scariest
Punks in my way, tryin to see how I play
I know they eat more rhymes than horses eat hay
But I keep my cool cause see like, that's my image
Stroll like a gangsta think you lost when I finish
Grab me a skeezer, head towards the booth
Cause I'm not only a king, I'm supreme.. and I'm cool!
[dj pooh]
It's the p-double-o-h in the sky
I don't need a cape cause I'm already fly
Like a skydiver, a nigga got drag
Like a race car driver, plus i'va
Spit saliva, liver, than mcgyver
("bam!") bump mo' bitches than a drunk driver
Faster than a crackhead, mo' powerful
Than a loco when I gotcha in a chokehold
I'm here to rid the city of them wack-ass groups
Them wack-ass lyrics with them wack-ass loops
They fakin like gangsters, turn into a crip-tonight/kryptonite
They don't faze me, cause we can still fight
But look, it's all about comin (up) up (up)
Up and away without bummin
But a nigga don't need no wonderwoman, hmm, I wonder
Who she been shuckin and jivin and fuckin
Or some bitch named lois cause the hoe is the lowest
And she's whiter than snow is ("too much of that snow white!")
I think I'll fly back to the hood
Kick it with the homies where you know it's all good
I'll be the first superhero with a strap
I know I'm all that.. ("it's a crow, it's a bat, no it's..")
[chorus]
[rashad]
The super nigga boogieman is out to make a killin
So fuck wastin time leapin over tall buildings
Cause I can get loose like fluid
Like diarrhea - I can, run right through it
I see through walls, 'specially at the malls
Ladies dressing rooms is where my duty calls
A lot of super niggaz be trickin they powers
Givin hoes money, and flyin 'em flowers
(but can you think of one thing you ever gave a hoe? )
No cause we super niggaz, not captain save-a-hoe
So back on up look, I'll catch yo' ass so quick
And letcho' ass know we the wrong super niggaz to be fuckin wit
I flash like lightning, powerful as bombs
I flied back twenty years ago and fucked your moms
And now it's ninety-fo', ain't shit changed
But now you call me daddy, when you call my name
Cause youse a silly mortal, you ain't down for combat
I'ma super nigga, and you an uncle tom cat
When I'm rollin through the hood they wonder is he
The nephew, of aunt kizzy
Or dizzy gillespie, and the rest be like
"that's the guy that's super, the fat track mover"
So wack mc's come step to these nuts
And get your crews cut below half, nigga do the math
I'm the m-a-n, mayne
I got a fly bitch with an invisible plane
Me and her be doin some x-rated shit
When I get the skins, in the cockpit
She be callin everything from mommy to jesus
Just ask the homies, cause them niggaz can see us
Cause them super niggaz too, from the crew
So please stay tuned, for more adventures of.. a super nigga
[chorus]
[king tee]
Mr. insane king tee motherfuckers from the boondox
I bust the drunken style on my corner with the boombox
I'm badder than the baddest inmate at (? )
Retarded, but let me show you what this can do
Create fright, niggaz scared to touch the mic
I shock 'em, amazed cause the wino rocked 'em
The best yet to like really catch wreck on the scene
O.g. from the alkaholik team
I just scream (ahhh!) let my backbone slip
Gotta get it on then take another sip
Make it hip, a feeling mc's won't forget
Bust crazy rounds then load another clip (well bust it)
Like r. kelly, "my mind's telling me no!"
But fuck that, I kick the ill flow
And deep down, I know niggaz is jeal'
Cause I'm pullin all the hoes and dickin 'em swell
But hey, cut the crap, cause like herpes I'm back
To give you what you want, I don't front or skip rap
With the bo, ba-ba-bye, the wicked with tha likwit
I'm wild like a winner with the lot-to ticket
But kick it, you could grab a comb and try to pick it
The nappy head sound comin from the underground
Oh shit it's the great, the man with the strap
[ verse 1: king tee ]
They live on the street and they hustle for fame
Some kill for a livin, some sling cocaine
Because it's now a lifestyle and a full-time job
And if you live in compton, it's like at mccobb
From block to block everybody's bad
And if you don't know where you're at, then your life's been had
Cause they walk in the street with intentions to meet
Some sappy lookin punk with fila on his feet
And if you try to act tough, well mr. tough, you're through
Cause everybody's a family, if not, they're a crew
I'm here to give some advice advice (run!)
Cause if you're ever in compton, you better bring a gun
Yo, here come my homeboy mixmaster spade
Man, what's up, man?
Hey man, ain't you from compton, man?
(ah yeah)
Alright man, tell em what's up, man
What you used to do
[ verse 2: mixmaster spade ]
I used to cut up the beat on the two turntables
Now I'm rappin on the mic, cause I'm willin and able
When I'm on the mic I take no slack
And everytime that you see me I'm tearin a gat
I got .380s and .22s
You messs with me, I'm gonna bust on you
I got a .357 and a m-16
They call me master spade, and tee's the king
Now compton is the city where the homeboys stay
Rollin in a different car everyday
Can't roll too hard, gotta watch my back
Cause if I don't, I just might get jacked
Now compton is a city of a lotta fun
(can't walk down the street
(can't walk down the street
Can't walk down the stree without my gun)
[ female voice ]
Now you know this just don't make no kinda sense
[ verse 3: king tee ]
Now the next place is kinda risky if you're walkin with your mother
Y'all can get shot if she wears the wrong color
They're all from the old school, nobody's modern
The place I'm talkin 'bout is the nickerson gardens
You can get away with murder, cause they murdered the cops
Cause they said they tried to run a bumrush on watts
But they took control, slingers walk real tall
While real down gangbangers write their set on the wall
If I was you I wouldn't visit here, it's like hell
And if you get robbed, who you gonna tell?
I'm only here for advice advice (run!)
And if you're ever in watts, you better bring a gun
[ verse 4: king tee ]
Now you got a nice car with a brand-new paintin
Rag top convertable with all-gold daytons
You decide to take a ride down the crenshaw strip
You stop at the fat burgers to feed your lip
You got your sounds bumpin, playin zapp and vibe
A skeezer comes your way, you say, "let's take a ride"
So you're cruisin crenshaw with her, you're goin to bail
A brown cutlass pulls up, they put a gauge to your head
They say, "(get our your car) if you value your life
(and leave your money) if you love your wife"
Now you're standin in the street lookin like you're on crack
And you say to yourself: I can't believe I got jacked
You call the police because your car they stole
But when you get in touch with them, they put you on hold
Your car is gone, nothin could be done
So next time you cruise crenshaw, you better bring a gun!
Alright, I wanna thank mixmaster spade for comin out to rock with me
(and greg mack) the mack attack
And I also wanna thank j-ro and sweet tooth for comin out rockin
(and dj [name])
And I wanna thank scotty d, cold-crush chris
And dj pooh, the hip-hop gangster
(when he say beat em up he don't be bluffin)
Word
And oh yeah, I forgot somebody
Unknown!
(yo man
"warning.."
[king tee w/ a voice modulator]
Ahhhhhhh..
Where da hoes at? where da hoes at?
Where da hoes at? where da hoes at?
Where da hoes at? where da hoes at?
Where da hoes at? where da hoes at?
Please can I go, huh, please can I go?
I don't wanna kick it in your pocket no mo'
I need some pussy bad, I need some pussy bad
And I don't give a fuck if the bitch is on the pad
Mr. applebaum, you gotta put me on
To fuck anita, pump up the bass and not the tweeter
Huh, I really need her, huh, I really need her
Or if you know another bitch then I would like to meet her
Where's the hoes at? where's the hoes at?
Where's the hoes at? where's the hoes at?
Where's the hoes at? where's the hoes at?
Wrap
Then pass that joint
( *in the background* )
Where the joint, man?
Somebody got it
I ain't got it
Check it out y'all
Mad kap's in the house
Nefrettiti's in the house
And she finna kick it like this
Come on now
Come on
[ verse 1: nefretiti ]
So just call me the spark, held by the flame
Once again my beats make white boys reclaim
A stain on your brain, and yet I'm stayin the same
Bust another rhyme, move into the hard time
My lifeline revolves into a circle of zero
And like for real I never liked no superficial hero
Now this joint is fat, so spark up that fat joint
And yes, you best believe I'm born again to prove my point
To say the least, I know you know that hip-hop won't stop
I smooth will get wreck, then pass me the joint
Pass it around
Pass it around
Pass it around(2x)
[ motif ]
Improvisation is the key to this freestyle
Hip-hop style, while jazz in the meanwhile
Stride, glide, and all that good stuff
Ride to the rhythm of this jazz, it's rough
You're crippled in the brain from a late night feature
The government is run by the beast and the creatures
Hanger for the hook-up, for the jab it's junk
They're comin in your speaker with the funk-fu-fu-funk
Some want you to say today I can't fit on one caper
Take out the seeds and begin to rollin papers
Then I roll the blunt or a spliff or a fattie
Feelin like a hood with a beanie in a caddy
I love my herb, I love my money, cause I'm young, matty
Never eat the pork, cause it's much, much too fatty
So come down, selector, and give me my props
I'm runnin through a field of marihuana crops
I'm thinkin, all the green, fat, crazy, stinky buds
Flow on the instrumental, cause this rhyme is not a dud
[ coke ]
Gettin crazy blunted, and you'll never say I fronted
On the raps, cause I take the track and run it
Into the ground, I'm ghetto clown number one
Rhymes are kinda fat like two tons of fun
Smash, boom, bam! and I never sound flam
It's that nigga king tee with the mad kap band
Gettin stupid high off the chocolate ghetto thai
So pass the dutchie on the left-hand side
King tee and nef, and the rhymes are on point
But now it's time for coke to pass the fuckin joint
Pass it around
Pass it around
Pass it around(5x)
[ king tee ]
Now here comes the bomb...
Pass it around, throw some flex in
Peek-a-boo! I mean - ooh! I be fresh when
I do that, but wait - who dat? it's the king
Mad kap, nefrettiti's the queen
With the sound of africa to the streets
Somethin the man can't cheat
And make it pop, cause we're already poppin
So I'm whistlin, sittin on the dock by
The bay, singin 'ay-hey,' can you copy?
Boomin like a jeep, deep with my posse
What's up, sister? yeah, it's mister
K-i-n-g tee, I brung a mixture
Of ruff rhymes, I drove by to shoot the pop rap
Cause you know you gotta stop that
Bullshit, but when my pull hits, it's on point
And I got the fat joint
Pass it around
Pass it around
Let's give it up for the fabulous {*scratched: "king tee*}
Fa-fabulous {*scratched: "king tee*}
Let's give it up for the fabulous {*scratched: "king tee*}
Fa, fa-fa-fabulous {*scratched: "king tee*}
[king tee]
All aboard the mothership, prepare to set sail
Lyrics fat, swell as a killer whale
Enemies approachin, identify yourself
They're raisin up the flag, backin up they get to blast
Open fire, cannons let loose
Shut 'em down like the spruce goose
Captain aye aye, they still floatin
Give the order - blow they punk ass out the ocean, got 'em
Drink hit the dank as they sink to the bottom
Schools of sharks circles then the sea turned all purple
Even jacques costeau punk-ass was scared to go
And that just goes to show to uhh, let you know, uhh
As I chill again like gilligan and the skipper
A nigga kickin it with two hoes like jack tripper
Swabbin the deck, just stabbin in my cabin
Rubbed the magic lamp and out popped aladdin like "what's happenin? "
I said, "what's up? I want my rhymes to be the dopest
Ala.. cadabara.. hocus pocus
You think they can see me? "he said, "nope not really
Cause the fog's in the air plus you're way out there"
[chorus]
When you look up in the sky, ohh me oh my
It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a God damn shame
Tela come wicked and you best beware
You will see when he kick it that he's way out there
[king tee]
My style pattern's unique, exquisite, so come visit
Exhibit a through g, through z, e-n-t
Stuck your equilibrium on activate
Captivate the ear and then his eyesockets upon my pockets
I left him in suspense, who's the, tribes and crews?
Competition none exists bitches be blowin me kisses
Others fall like missiles, the cap was artificially flavored
My first verse, it quenched your thirst
For instance, I'm makin people boogie but yet
From long distance, causin it to interfere with your hemisphere
Flee, it's a g recipe
It get you hooked, havin fits off my shit
[chorus]
[king tee]
They wanna wipe us out! I think they hate us
Killers with the pencils and the papers and erasers
I'm comin through ya living room boom, shok-a-lok-a boom
Shake ya whole area, break your sound barrier
So wake up if you sleep cause like a clock I tock I'm tickin
Early bird, get the worm, and I stopped slangin chickens
But I still be kickin facts, black, black on black crime
Why the hell you jackin me? I don't have a damn dime
My skills kill you like a deer with my spear
When it rains it pours he fell from the tier off the third floor
The pieces of the puzzle huh, figure it out
And start fuckin around and we'll be diggin you out
And it's just that simple put the thang up to your temple
And now you got a permanent dimple
It's king, tee, the name nigga and don't get snotty
Better knock on some doors and ask somebody (yeah)
So fuck that other shit and grab my hand with all your might
Cause i'ma show you what that west coast like
The flavor's unbelievable, nutritious, delicious
Nigga when the tee get loose it gets vicious
[both parts scratched ad lib for four bars]
Let's give it up for the fabulous {*"king tee"*}
[chorus] - 2x
{*opening skit: man talking to girlfriend in car*}
[M] You won't have to worry about anything when you're with me
[M] cause I'm.. (?) reliable (?)
{*while he's speaking, thug runs up and opens his car door*}
[T] Nigga WHASSUP nigga? Get out the car nigga!
[T] Give me your jew-els, fool!
[M] What, what do you want from us?
[T] You and your BITCH, nigga!
{*car door slams*}
[T] Get out here.. nigga you better get off this motherfucker punk
[M] Look.. look out baby
[M] I'm not givin up anything! You're just gonna have to..
{*gun blasts*}
";Screamin!";
{*second skit: argument between thugs over money*}
[1] Where my motherfuckin chips at nigga?
[2] Yo homey I already told you nigga I'd have it Friday nigga
[1] Man FUCK what you told me nigga!
[2] WHAT?! Nigga, fuck you motherfucker
[1] Nigga what's happenin then nigga? Nigga!
{*beatdown starts*}
[2] Awww shit!!
{*beatdown continues*}
[King Tee]
I gotta leave this crazy place, but my feet won't budge
The niggaz always ask am I a Crip or a Blood?
I am what I am and that's all I can stands
I can't stands no more so I'ma scram
Sell me a couple of ki's and buy a crib far away
A place that the map don't say
Cause I'm gettin kinda timid, at first I was with it
Talk about jack moves, I did it
I took cars, snatched jewelry, and boy I'd run
with the colored rag over my gun
And there was times I had to pop fools {*BLAM*}
because they didn't believe that the glock rules
When I say get out, get out! And I might not shoot
Then I'm off to put your Dayton's on my Coupe
But nowadays I have to figure
What goes around comes around for the triflin nigga
{*third skit: G's discussing a hit*}
[1] There the nigga!
[2] Nigga nigga fuck that, I'm gonna shoot this nigga right here
[2] Man, watch this
{*gun being cocked sounds*}
[2] I ain't got time to be playin with this motherfucker nigga
[2] Show this nigga what time it is nigga
[1] Yo yo hold up
[2] Nigga watch out nigga
[1] Come on man
[2] Nigga watch out nigga {*incomprehensible*}
[2] Fuck that nigga man, fuck that nigga
[1] We don't need to get indicted
[3] Yo yo the nigga got a gat!!
[2] Nigga fuck that nigga nigga! Nigga FUCK that nigga!
[2] Nigga FUCK THAT NIGGA!
{*BLAM! BLAM! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!*}
[2] NIGGA FUCK THAT NIGGA!!
[King Tee]
Back in the days I used to stand on the block with my box
Watchin my boy run up to cars and sell rocks
He was young and bold, lot of money and gold
Kept a gat on hold in case suckers tried to roll
A car stops, he trots, yellin here comes the cops
He's only sixteen, but he's braver than his pops
His mother and father, smoke crack like I drink brew
Survival's on his mind so he serves them too
School isn't important, he's importin big packages
across the border, a little shorter than a million quarters
All the women ride his jock like a jockey
He says ";I'm on top, there ain't a cop who could stop me";
but confidence, is his best defense
At night he carries a gauge he fit inside of his trench
He says ";A punk try to run up, I'ma pull the trigger";
What goes around comes around for the triflin nigga!
{*fourth skit: a drug deal in progress*}
[1] What's happenin man you got those birds?
[2] Yo you got the money homey?
[1] Aiyy man whatchu gonna ask me somethin like that fo'?
[3] Look man, fuck all the bullshit
[1] Man here you go right here man
[2] Show the money dawg
{*briefcase is opened*}
[1] Nigga, there you go, so what's happenin?
[?] I like that, we in business
[?] Man - fuck you nigga, this is a jack, it's a jack nigga
[?] Always gettin him, hey what's up?
[2] Nigga, strip down, get butt-naked nigga
[King Tee]
I heard one-time wanna peel my cap
for the gangster rap to make niggaz start fightin back
But I don't even give a fuck
Pass the AK, and one-time better duck {*automatic fire*}
Cause I don't give a fuck about a piece of tin
I [*scratch*] shit off your chest and then grin
And move on to the next motherfucker
Cops ain't nuttin but the Klan undercover
And they be lynchin motherfuckers up nightly
That's why they need mo' motherfuckers like me
To stand on the scene and pull the [*trigger*]
cause I'm a triflin nigga
{*fifth skit: passengers in a car*}
[1] Yo yo, yo they got the lights on, that's the cops
[2] Aww god damn!
[1] Pull over!
[2] Y'all just chill out, y'all just chill out, y'all just chill out
[2] Chill out alright? Here he comes, here he comes
[C] Can I see yer driver's license registration and proof of insurance?
[2] What did I do officer?
[C] Get get your hands on the wheel!
[2] Man what did I do? What you talkin about?
[1] Man fuck that nigga man
[?] Blast that motherfucker, blast him!
{*BLAM, BLAM BLAM BLAM, BLAM*}
{*car peels out and takes off*}
King Tee's drunk again, yo, check this out, aww shit, aw shit
I wanna dedicate this song to all them motherfuckers out there
That, that, that perpentratin', perpetratin', perpin'tratin', wait, rewind
(Eh but yo, King Tee, man, what is this? What is this?)
Some cool shit for the King's anthology
And when I'm done, don't expect no apology
Stupid motherfuckers shoulda stepped when I warned 'em
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
'Cuz y'all be poppin' some shit that's unheard of
For you, what's the word? Uh, 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
And yo, we got my homeboy Ice Cube
In the house from the motherfuckin'
Lench Mob, what's up, nigger? And yo Ice Cube
I heard you're a singer now, man, what's up? Yo, yo
Do ray 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
'Cuz 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
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 suckers
Last year I was Ruthless, now I'm Lenchin' mothafuckers
And you'll see in a tree, MCs and crews
Now they're lookin' for me, King Tee, and Pooh
Now every nigga that crossed me's soprano
'Cuz I played their ass like a fuckin' piano
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
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 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'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 easily remain 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
This is just a sample of three black Nigroes
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 ya over, slam ya down
Then tell ya 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, 'cuz 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 ya can? I don't think that you can, though
See, not long back when I was seventeen
When I walk in the jam, suckers look at me mean
They wouldn't give me respect, told girls I was a whack
You shouldn't have did that brother, I'm here for the payback
They spreaded rumors about the king
They said that I was a front
All my rhymes are wack
All my cuts are bunk
They said I live in a slum, my father's a bum
They said my sister's a crackhead, my brother's drinkin' Rum
But I didn't let it bother me took my time
Sat at the kitchen table wrote my rhymes
And now that I'm eighteen, I'm not a kid no more
I could walk in a nightclub and wop across the floor
I'm a show you I'm good
Make you wish that you could do the things that I do
If I could teach you I would
See, back then you didn't like me, I stayed in your path
See my name on a flyer, you giggle and laugh
Tell people I'm soft when I could really get off
You didn't know it, now I show it, I'm the Hip Hop boss
See, people like you are known for fakin'
Frontin' and bluffing and perpetratin'
Biting and lyin' and always waitin'
For me to come around and see how much I'm makin'
See, money I got, 'cause I'm a pro at this trade
You thought you got away but you're about to get paid
You told girls I was wack, shouldn't have did that brother
Look, I'm King Tee and my payback's a mutha
As I talk you get madder because the crowd starts to notice
A professional rhymer, yeah, you must know this
I'm cooler than most, most of all I'm so cool
Never smacked on the crack because I'm too busy in school
See, I just think you're jealous and you envy my style
You hear my rhymes, say it's weak but in your mind you're sayin', "Wow"
Tell people I'm ugly and I got big lips
But as I walk by your girl she wanna ride king's tip
Going down in fame just remember my name
Not a sapoe with a Afro
A king with a brain, if a sucker gets beef
And wanna battle, let 'em come
We'll discuss it over lunch and drink some one-fifty-one
After that I set a trap even though I feel tipsy
The crowd starts to clap and I ain't even got busy
I'm great, some even say I'm a genius
You said my crew was whack, you haven't even seen us
So I'll get you back, can't survive too long
Tellin' lies about the king but I could take it, I'm strong
Got a Emmy in Rap for usin' my cool strategy
Rappin' was nominated to get a Academy
The girlies I get, suckers
Probably get mad at me but I don't care
King Tee is the baddest
See, Fila's my trademark, I'm going for a medal
Letting off some steam like fire to the kettle
Sportin' real gold and a baseball cap
You better look out punk, I'm here for the payback
See, I'm macho supreme, head honch of the team
Numero uno, Kadafi of the Hip Hop scene
I could be a cool rebel, I'm already tough
Dominate Rap artist never spoke on a bluff
Down and I'm hard when I'm rockin', I'm smooth
I get a trophy for mostly doin' B-Boy moves
Affiliated with a posse let me go down to the list
Scotty Dee,Keith Cooley and Cold Crush Chris
Vatchiek's a pro, he's also down with the crew
The master mind of the drum, D.J. Cool Pooh
If you ever get souped up, you'll look like a poot butt
You'll ask me to stop and I ask you to do what
I won't stop till I paid you back
By the time I'm through with you
You'll wanna smoke some crack
Because I'm the King tee, there is no other
Hey, here comes the funk of the future
And I can rock a rhyme from Perquorma to Hoover
The westside kid, quick to do a bid
Just watch me cock the glock and make room
Shit man I got a 12 guage with the infrared scope
I found a Tec 9 it use to be a radio
But now I'm a G, psycho, crazy
Fuck what you say and buck buck and I'm suazy
In my rag coup, front and back and it's quick
Punks with bump and that 3 wheel shit
'Cause that's all you need when you need to be poppin'
Bust a U-turn on 3 wheels by the cops and
Damn if feels good to be triflin', you know what I'm sayin' 'cuz?
Who got the wallet, 'cause I'm buzzed
I got the black mack-11, sendin' fools to heaven
Get the fuck out my way, this is Compton fool just
Duck, duck, I'm about to bust some rounds
Duck, duck, I'm fiendin' to bust some rounds
Duck, duck, yeah, I'm about to bust some rounds
Duck, duck
Yo check it, they be like "He's a maniac"
Yeah, bitch ant that's real, get the fuck up out the car and just peel
Yo punk I said right before I crash you in the grill
With the ass of my glock, watch the blood spill
Gangstas got love the nigga King Tee
Just ask 'em who's the great weight, just watch 'em scream me
Quick with the punch, rollin' like clunch
Coming with the real shit, runnin' with a bunch of crazy niggas with wires
Hammers and players, your money and your blood
Plus the Daytons and them tires
I be goin' so low, you can't get under
Niggas can't see me, ask Stevie Wonder, blazed in the chronic
Bumpin' delphonics and my shit's screamin' like that group Onyx
But hey, I'm the man that'll bust that ass open
When I was young me BB gun even has a scope so
Duck, duck, I'm about to bust some rounds
Duck, duck, I'm fiendin' to bust some rounds
Duck, duck, yeah, I'm about to bust some rounds
Duck, duck
God damn, it's King Tee with the funky bumrush
Smoke a lot of herb but I never hit the dust
I can wreck them efx 'cause I ain't got my check, baby
This ain't no punk shakin' shit, I'm goin' crazy
I think I'm goin' out of my head say what
I said I think I'm going out of my head, so E-Swift
Since you rule in the cuts, give me the gun
And just duck, come on
Yo, I got a black case but it ain't for the mase
It's for the 4-4 I use to blast you in the face
'Cause I be actin' kind of triflin' like my nigga Tela
Cock the hammer blow you out your socks and your Filas
Which way did he go? Which way did he go?
Niggas don't know, I got to play the down low
Punks, jump up and get blasted to the ground
So motherfucker duck, I'm about to bust a 'round
Duck, duck, I'm about to bust some rounds
Duck, duck, I'm fiendin' to bust some rounds
Duck, duck, yeah, I'm about to bust some rounds
Yo Pooh, man
What you build in there, man?
(Ah - one of those hypso-change-o-calypso-beat-a-matics)
(There'll) (be an-) (other ruff rhyme) --> Rakim
(When I'm done)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
Another package from your slick Royal Highness
Pay attention, so you won't have to rewind this
Put yourself together for another funky clip
I bring a lotta magic, but this ain't no trick
It's pure skill I possess in my possession
A crazy rhythm and my funky horn section
And Pooh hyped up this funky ol' track
So I thought about it, I'm comin (I'm back)
(When I'm done)
(I'm back)
(When I'm done)
(King Tee is back again)
Now let me talk to ya to the best of my ability
About the kid that's rockin this facility
I bring to you peace and tranquility
Don't try to front, cause I know you feel it, see
My beats are masculine, I think that there hasn't been
A better groove to keep you like dancing, man
I feel thankful to feel there ain't no
Sucker tryin to gank my spot, least I think so
But I don't sweat, cause I can stand on my two feet
Hold the mic and just curse the beat
I don't complain about the crowd I attract
Roll out the red carpet, I'm comin (I'm back)
(When I'm done)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(King Tee is back again)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(When I'm done)
(I'm back)
(King Tee is back again)
Well, this might seem odd
You ask who taught me, well, it musta been God
Cause ain't none of y'all cool like me
The impressario, majestic Tee
Some rappers are scared of me, they say when they dare to be
Threatened, well, keep on steppin, I'll be prepared to be
Jacked, Jack, cause your rhymes don't match
You got bold when I left, now I'm back
To stomp you, cause you stomp wrong, so I'ma stomp on
Fool, you forgot, I'm from Compton
This is just a taste of my album, really nothin
Just to show you I'm back (I'm comin)
(When I'm done)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(King Tee is back again)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(When I'm done)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(King Tee is back again)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(Back again) (back again) (back again)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme
(When I'm done)
(There'll be another ruff rhyme)
(Ruff rhyme)
(Ruff rhyme)
(Ruff rhyme)
(When I'm done)
(There'll) (be an-) (other ruff rhyme)
Hey King Tee, since this beat is kinda rockin'
I'ma let you rap and get the suckers cold clockin'
So yo loc', hear the beat I'm displayin'
(Yep)
But now listen to the guitar playin'
Listen to the guitar playin'
One, two, three
Yo, now if you're hip to me then I guess you heard bass
But I got another instrument to flaunt in your face
It's not a flute or a trumpet, don't beef 'cause you love it
A funky guitar rhythm that Pooh sampled and cut it
So for those who really know what dope stuff sounds like
If it sounds good, sounds funky or sounds hype
Put your ear to this and let me know what you think
Yo Pooh, bust the guitar while I grab me a drink
Listen to the guitar playin'
Listen to the guitar playin'
Now to many people this tune is like fazin'
Get the crowd dancin' with the funkiest persuasion
Hypnotizin' suckers with some personal-fication
Get the crowd movin', motivation
(C?mon)
See I'm like a symbol to MC's, I'm a father
No wait, I'm a lyricist, better yet a saga
Enough about the King 'cause you know I get far
I played with the bass, now I'm messin' with the guitar
And the way that it sounds you say shucks
It can't be real how the player just plucks on the strings
It rings yo, it's like the funkiest rhythm
Pooh brings the drums with the sticks to hit 'em
It's not ballet jazz punk rock or swing, it's dope
Rappin' brought by the T apostrophe King
And if I was in school and this was an assignment
I wouldn't type it or write it, I'd just rhyme it
'Cause rhyme is what I like, I got a metaphor background
A punk jumps up, I bust a verse, he sits back down
I wrote a epic, I hope you accept it
Fly stupid rhymes I composed and perfected
I'm down with some people that know what they're doin'
Darryl and Bobcat and Dwayne and DJ Pooh
And Keith Cooley is cool see, I'm the coolest person
Somebody drop the guitar before I start cursin'
Listen to the guitar playin'
Listen to the guitar playin'
So as it looks, the people like it
The funky guitar tune that we ignited
Pooh, I mean really, suckers be stumblin'
When they hear the funky guitar strummin'
You know frankly, I think this cut is kinda musical
Just like my bass song but don't get them confused though
The guitar gets your mind in the funky kind of state
And my bass makes the walls shake
(Yeah)
Suckers can't come close with what I got goin'
What I be doin', what I be showin'
How I be conquerin' and how I keep rulin'
What makes the King Tee stay so cool and
Where I get my Filas from, how I learned my slang
How could I afford such a big gold chain
And fly girlies tempt me when [unverified] wanna hit me
Why I drink brew 'til my body gets tipsy
To ask all the questions that I just spoke though
It's not magic or a hoax I'm just loco
I like bustin' on the funky dope track
Smooth like T, mo' powerful than a gat
Now that you know what's goin' around
(Come on)
Here comes the funky breakdown
That's smooth, man
That made me laugh at all these suckers, man
You laughin' too Pooh?
(Yeah, haha)
Listen to the guitar playin'
(Haha)
Listen to the guitar playin'
(Haha)
Yo Pooh, yo Pooh, break it down for a minute
Let me talk to the party
Now yo, me and Pooh is feelin' real hot right now, you know
But we want y'all to know, that see, me and my crew
We from Compton, y'all heard about Compton? Compton
(Compton)
Aight, see that's where we from
Intro:
Ladies and gentleman, that nigga king tee and the al-cum-a-holiks
Verse one: j-ro
Pooh-butts play the rear cause I'm makin yapes
The rhymes ain't no thicker than a, skittle grapes
A lot of girls would like to thank me, for the hanky-panky
On the mic I hold a belt, now I know no one could spank me
It took a long time for the people, to hear my rhymes
Seems like I been rappin since my birth in '69
Sorry to keep you waitin, I run rhymes like walter payton
I get a rhyme like spokes on a dayton
But I won't knock off, because I just rock off
The beats to get funky, like when you take your sock off
To all the white folks I would like to say howdy
And to all my brothers I say peace quit actin rowdy
Wack mcs in ninety-two, ew you need to take a rest
The public don't you aim the best you're softer than a hookers chest
Raps, I make em, snaps, I make em
For duties movin booties cause I shake shake shake em
And I got rhymes, funky funky rhymes
E-swift hold the needle down with nickels and dimes
I drink olde english, st. ide's and mickeys
When it's time to roll I throw on my black dickeys
On the mic I get wicked, like wilson pickett
I get the place jumpin like a cricket when I kick shit
I'm from the west coast but don't sleep home-stimpy
Even if I was a paperboy you still couldn't rip me
I walk up and chalk up pairs like the knicks
I'm all in the mix like snares, and kicks
When it comes to rhymes I get loose like belt buckles
Those who chose to oppose this nose is felt knuckles
(where you goin' to? ) to the tip
(and what cha bout to do? ) bout to rip
Some people use the word funky too loosely
And just how many rappers say they kick it like bruce lee
(what's your favorite brew? ) olde e
(and what it make you do? ) go pee
It used to be about rhymes, all about rhymes
Now rappers rearrangin, and changin like times
I got it bad y'all, I got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all
I got it bad y'all, I got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all
Verse two: e-swift
Back the fuck up, gimme room to breath
Not too many niggaz can flip the rhymes like these
I freak the technique as if it was a bitch
Got more soul than the pit with a fifth
Pitch the ball, so I can beat it with the bat
Talk some shit, so I can smoke ya with my gat
I'm feelin kind feelin kinda feelin kinda feelin kinda
Feelin kinda buzzed off a sack of chocolate tie
My my my ho, I like to rip the shows up
Smack the hoes that walk around with they nose up
Run to the liquor store, before they close up
Buy a few 40s, cause daily I get to' up
Sit at the crib and write riggy riggy rhymes
Line after line after liggy liggy line
Yo I can get funky, buy my tape and bump me
To the break of dawn I hit the bud and pass it on
Hangin at the park, shootin craps on the weekend
My brown bag is wet cause my tall can is leakin
Starin at the cops, beatin up on rodney
While a pack of o.g.'s steppin to me tryin to rob me
Just because I'm dope, niggaz wanna smoke me
On the mic I get funky while you're doin the hokey-pokey
Dance steps, I think that you should leave to paula
Alkaholiks is the shit, e-swift's the smooth bawler
Is slangin these rhymes like a rock
Life ain't shit but money and a glock
Don't punch a clock, but I cock a fat knot
So I can smoke a lot of pot that I roll up with tops
And ya ain't heard shit yet, I'm just gettin warm
Like hot butter on, say what? , the popcorn
I'm headed to the top, please give me my props
My beats are fat as fuck so bump my shit in your box
I love to hit the skinz, but then again who doesn't
I love to hit the herbs cause it leave me feelin buzzin
I dedicate this chumpie to the poets who can wreck
And to all the nottie dreads I gots to give them nuff respect
(where you goin' to? ) to the tip
(and what cha bout to do? ) bout to rip
Some people use the word funky too loosely
And just how many niggaz say they kick it like bruce lee
(what's your favorite brew? ) olde e
(and what it make you do? ) go pee
It used to be about rhymes, all about rhymes
Now rappers rearrangin, and changin like times
I got it bad y'all, I got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all
I got it bad y'all, I got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all
Verse three: king tee
Up jumps the man with the loot
Rockin like a troop with the alkaholik group
Everything is kosher, got a little taller
Livin kinda phat cause king tee's a bawler
I just, irritate the wack, leave em so confused
When I'm checkin on the mic with the ones and twos
Sneak you a peek of the drunk technique
Can't stand up, need to take a seat
Baby baby baby it's the alkaholiks
But I can freak the mic no matter how ya call it
Metaphors grand, and I'm the great man
Drink a whole fifth yes I can yes I can can
The girls call me dick-em-down
Got that title rockin for the crown
Catch y'all later, around next weekend
(See, look, look)
I grab the mic and start breakin' down niggas
Without no problem, broadcastin' live from the bottom
Ain't no mic checkin' worse
Kick some rhymes if you got but if it's wack
I draw back the cap for the peelin'
Should of stuck to rock dealin'
'Cuz it's the blood stealin' super vil
Chill, stayin' high like the ceilin'
See there ain't enough room for the both of us
See it's a showdown, throw down
Your best style, I'll bust
Yo, I write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up
Couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
In all disrespect, I'll snatch you by your neck
And do a suplex and step
So nigga you can check my credentials
Just hard rhymes and instrumentals
Xzhibit smash you wit' a dental
And a loaded pistol, no longer lookin' in the window
I'll bust a field wit' indo killin' quarts of beer
Sadie's outta here
Like a fuze, start spreadin' the news
It's 94 and Breeze is givin' niggas the blues
I paid my dues and now it's time to go on to the next mode
Make room for the kaboom, 'cuz I'm about to explode
And drop bombs like a B1, cops I seize none
And niggas step up, I soak emcseason
Three seconds to destinate, you betta evacuate
No time to hesitate, you fuckin' featherweight
I ain't the type to pic up the mic
And catch the stage fright
I'll pull a gauge if I ain't paid right
To the promoters on tour
Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours
I'm psycho pathic like Manson ain't wit' the dancin'
But still I get more Cheers than Ted Danson
More dough than Marino or roles than Pacino
You beatin' me? That's only in your dreams ho
I'm not sayin' I'm unbeatable, I'm sayin' I'm untouchable
Livin' comfortable just like a Huxtable
Plus I'm rollin' wit' the cross roads
Movin' fast forward, while you other suckas
Stuck in a pause mode
I goes deep like a great white
But I'm a stay black
No matter how high the pay stacks
Or if my rep gets bigger
You might get take this nigga out the ghetto
But not the ghetto out this nigga
For the balls basketballs microphones gassin' grass
Hey, some of the few things J-Ro likes to pass
93 mandingo 94 I'm the Pharaoh
'Cuz I'm b-bad to the bone marrow
I get wild wit' more styles than the martial arts
I need weed, I roll more grass than golf carts
April 92 you no the Ro was a looter
Now I'm writin' raps on my lab-top computer
J-Ro the tittie fiend, rap dean, wearin' green
Been on the scene, since the age of 13
I learned I had to earn the mic, now's my turn
I got Furious Styles like Larry Fishburne
Wit' da bitches tunin' me in
Like it's the Young and the Restless
Next up to bust my shit from the L-I-K-S's
Yes, it's the freshest wit' lyrics rough around the edges
I'll smoke you on the mic
Like a pack of Benson Hedges but hold up, wait
I'll bust rhymes that'll circulate
That'll wake yo punk ass up like MC Eiht
'Cuz I be rockin' rhymes since the roof was on fire
So point me to the bitch who's the dopest butterflyer
I'll make her break it down like she Patra when I catch ya
Broadway is on the tables while I throw these lyric atcha
So slow down before ya fuck wit' my sound
Yo, what's up?
King Tee's in the muthafuckin' house
Got my homeboy Young Floyd in the house
J-Ro's in the house
But yo
Now here's somethin' everybody can relate to
I know you hate to, but I feel great to
Be the man to shake you, awake you and make you
Stop sleepin' and I do what it takes to
Bring a screechin' halt to the snoozin'
First listen to the jam before you start choosin'
And refusin', sayin' you can't hack it
You never even bothered to take it out the jacket
Put it on the turntable, have a listen
Then if it's wack, start dissin'
Now I understand why you're dissin' my cut
So I spit in my foot and stick my fist up your butt
'Cause you have no business, really in this
And I have no time for that diss-diss
I shoot a rhyme at you like I'm shootin' to kill
And you can do is ask yourself
(Can this be real?)
Now this song, I dedicate it to the sleepers
Nothing real hard, just a little teaser
For those, who told those, that the King Tee was done with
No, not quite, yo, pooh pump it
Suckers don't front, I know it's me you admire
I take your girl, set her soul on fire
I use the mic like a gun and my rhymes like ammo
I go Tyson while others go Rambo
Pooh puts are warned, break north while you can, bub
Give up rappin', join my fanclub
I'm the rap reverend, hip-hop evangelist
Yo, I can handle this, pass me the cannabis
Pro rap artist and my rhymes are kinda raunchy
Start with somethin' smooth, end with somethin' punchy
See, I can rock, funk, rock, reggae or salsa
Heavy metal or some soul, disco at the casa
Just to the point of a vinyl convention
Tee does the rappin', E does the mixin'
So if you're still sleepin', yo, that's ill
But when you're awake, what's your question?
(Tell me, can this be real)
Let me see if I can bust this one off
Right here, one take
As I resume with my rhymes, or should I say continue
You got the nerve to try to pretend you
Don't like what I'm doin' or sayin' so far
But usually when I'm done you're satisfied, of course
I don't front or fake, don't base or sniff
Don't rob or steal or shoot dice and pimp
'Cause I love to hang out with my posse and chill
You might think I'm a thug, so think what you will
I got a girl with a curl and a hommie named Sonny
Never smoked crack 'cause the shit smelled funny
King Tee, my alter ego, there's not to be a sequel
Suckers try to diss me when I entertain the people
Hey, I'm a murderer, your girl, I'm servin' her
You feel like beefin', hah, the nerve of ya
I hit you so hard, it make your mother feel dizzy
Back up, punk, the King came to get busy
King tee:
I'm the man that'll bust dat ass, I'm the man that'll bust dat ass
J-ro:
Naw, I'm the man that'll bust dat ass, I'm the man that'll bust dat ass
(say what? !)
E-swift:
Naw nigga, I'm the man that'll bust dat ass, I'm the man that'll bust dat
Hook:
I'm the man that'll bust dat ass, I'm that man that'll bust dat ass
King tee talking:
Yo check this out. this is tha alkaholik crew. e-swift didn't they say it
Couldn't be done? they said king tee couldn't bring out the alkaholik crew
(but we doin' it). yo, it's the fresh shit. the dope shit for 1993. tha
Alkaholik crew. I'm gonna bust out like this, here we go, come on.
King tee:
Now bust it, I'm a try to freak it with the drums
Alkaholik funk, bass for the trunk
And I'm kinda crazy, stupid and hey I can do the nasty and drink like a
Sailor
I'm real smooth, free from germs
Even walk away when my homie smokin' sherm
Cause this is how I kick it, hoes got to lick it
It's tha alkaholiks and j-ro is wicked
E-swifts mad, cause he got it bad
King tees phat and I sport a blue rag
For the little whips and the honey dips
It's gang truece so I put away the clips
Baby baby baby I might flip
Got to get it on, let my backbone slip
If I fall back then give me some gas
If you try to play me I'll bust dat ass
Hook (x4)
J-ro:
Put the mic down clown, you can't get down
Jump around stage like your name was charlie brown
When the kid is played out your rap record is finished
Deminish, you couldn't come strong if you ate a gang of spinish
Popeye, you could never drop by, you can never stop by
Cause you can never top i
I got to hold back now I'm out before your turf
Because I want it all like the nigger greedy smurf
It's time to scoop the wack up, e-swift bring the track up (alright)
Punk you better pack up, cause the unit got my back up
You're a mic stand, got a steady woman
But I been in more sheets than the klu klux klan
I'm the j to the ro, and I want to make it clear
That you're rappin' like a queer so why don't you get on out of here
With the alley cat coat wearin' hush puppy shoes
? seen you with (punk you ain't shit!)
King tee and the liks blowin' up like gas
I bend your rhyme over, I bend your rhyme over
I bend your rhyme over, I bend your rhyme over
I bend your rhyme over, then I bust dat ass
Hook (x4)
Talking:
Tha alkaholiks, tha alkaholiks, I'm drunk, I'm drunk, tha alkaholiks.
Straight for 93. rippin' shit up. tha alkaholik , now you join e-swift
Hook
E-swift:
I fiend to get busy like a bee, check 1,2,3!
E-swift and tha alkaholik crew with king tee (baby)
Bangin' niggas out the box, drink my scotch on the rocks
And I'm makin' more hits than the motherfuckin' cops
I'm kickin' lines like tyson kickin' ass
Niggas can't laugh, I put your neck in a cast (whoa)
Yes, i"m the man with the skills to talk shit
And I'm back by the crew that none of y'all can get with
So back to the lab to fix your demo
Or get played like sega or nintendo
Simple as that, give me a beat that's phat
And watch a nigga jump on a motherfucker like cheese on a rat
It's strickly, dirty underground ass funk
That's busting out the weak 15's in your trunk
So don't be scared, be prepared when it hits
The average motherfucker can't hand with the liks
[king tee]
Yo pooh, let's.. drop.. some..
Bass, to make the walls shake
And vibrate the floor, just like an earthquake
King tee is back again, but with a new topic
I wouldn't listen too close cause it's toxic
A new format, complete with the tool
Even though I transform, I stay cool
For me to get taken, how would you figure it
Right off the bat, if you thought so would be ignorant
Or just stupid, or cold dumb
I play lead vocals, pooh plays drums
Keith does cuts, suckers get torn but
I gotta break, here comes the horns..
{*samples and scratches*}
Bass, to make your heart shiver
I know you, remember back when I used to wear silver
But I gave it a toss, cause I was told
That you're not a real b-boy, without real gold
So i, went downtown to see
How much is the thirty inch dookie
It's quite a bit of money for a big gold chain
Throw him a thousand then he hand me some change
And now I'm cooler, in other words I got it goin
Sway to the side, while I'm showin a professional skill
That I put together with perfection
I gotta clear my throat, punch in the horn section!
{*samples*}
Cause I need some boom, to crack the walls
Break the windows, shake the room
When I'm done take my photo, this is how it go though
King of cool lyrics, and I'm solo
As a rhyme preacher, shoulda been a teacher
Let the bass reach ya, and let it beat ya
Never givin up cause I persist to be the dopest
I wouldn't take it as a gag or a joke it's
Serious, bass drum kickin like a ninja
You wanna dance to death, (? ) send ya
If you say that I'm the coolest I'll probably say "truly!"
But at this time I represent keith cooley
{*samples and scratches*}
Verse four, the part where I get it off
Then, try to rush it cause the studio costs
I mean the main idea is bass
And you probably get a bruise when it's at your face, so
Don't get mad or either angry at me
I'm just a lyricist, and my name's tee
The supreme cool kid who puts life in the mic
I need bass from a drum, to hell with the pipe!
Casanova fly guy, funky fresh in the flesh
And to those who don't you best believe I'm the best
If it's fashion I'm flashin, just like the drums
{"hold it now.." - ".. here it kiddy come comes!"}
{*samples*}
Now keith! (yeah) how you livin homes? (l-l-like, like this..)
Now everybody in the disco if you're feelin alright
And you know king tee's the mc of the night
Don't front, get up, let me know what's happenin
Keith does the scratchin for the king tee's rappin
I'm from compton though, I travelled the nation
And from every different state I get different condescation
I'm the {k-k-king..} so just give me some space
Back up and just let {cool drop that bass!}
{*scratches*}
{cool drop that bass!}
It's at your own
It's at your own
It's at your own
It's at your own risk, sucker
Yo, whassup? Yo, what's happenin?, what's happenin??
E-Swift, you cuttin? the records, nice boy
DJ Pooh, whassup man? We all chillin?
Yo, yo, J-Ro's in the house
We all cold coolin? out y'knahmsayin??
And I'ma bust it off like this for Compton
Well, look who sprung up, comin? the fuck up
I came in the place to let you know what's up
With a bunch of trunk jewelry, two or three fat gold chains
Ring plates with my name on 'em
Yeah, I rhyme fly, real fly Hobbes
I wear Nikes ?cause I run from the cops
Pops taught me lots he said, "Toys are for tots"
At four, bought me a box, when I was six I wore a jock
?Cause, my jimmy was gettin? kinda big
At nine I was a kid but I took my first swig
Hugged that Olde English beer
So my peers wouldn't think that I was queer
Yeah, right off I got the title of a gangsta
Pranksters run because they know that there ain't a
Person runnin? a verse on like this, hahahaha
Whassup? This at your own risk, sucker
Uhh, this at your own risk, sucker
P-P-Pooh, man, fuck it
People always say, "Are you the king of the West?"
But there's always some pest who try to put you to the test
Even though they know I'm king, I'm on a higher level
I even dust the church and sold they soul to the devil
I mean really, how you think I'm livin??
On the strength I'm livin? like it's Thanksgiving
So yo, whassup turkey, tryin? to jerk me?
Your rhymes don't work see, you can't hurt T
The almighty individual, you said you knew
But I don't think you really know
About the K I N G, super cool mack daddy
I drive a Caddy, and I'm livin? fatly
Had me on stage in a rage
Yellin? was what ya know, that's how I get paid
Made my mark but rappers still insist to diss
But yo, it's at your own risk, sucker
Sup? It's at your own risk
Aiyyo, E-Swift, bust the break
Verse three is another one for those to remember
King Tee is the champ, smashin? all contenders
For those who disbelieve, just step in my direction
I'm snappin? arms, legs and even necks and
Suckers who thrive to drive me crazy
You know the ones who front tryin? to amaze me
Take it as a warnin? ?cause I'm hopin? that you don't diss
But get a load of this, it's at your own risk, sucker
Yo, it's all about me and DJ Pooh and E-Swift
Rockin? the house, y'knowhatI'msayin??
We got Walkman in the house
We got J-Ro in the house, we got [unverified]
Y'knowhatI'msayin?? We cold chillin, y'know?
I wanna send this record out to the Piano Man
Piano Man, won't you play somethin? for me?
Aight, get busy, right here, c'mon, c'mon
Get funky, get, get funky, c'mon, c'mon
Get funky ass oh, ohh yeah
Get funky, aww ooh shit
It's at your own risk suckers, knowhatI'msayin??
Yeah, E-Swift, scratch that in
Aww yeah, aww, you're doggin? it man
Christian brothers man..
{*burrrp*} excuse me
(watch your manners man, what the fuck is wrong with you? )
[king tee]
Check it out ("keep on") boo-yaow!
Ah one-two, yeah bust it bust it..
What the fuck is goin on man?
Ah one-two, who's comin through the door?
Oh shit, well there he is! tha alkaholik funk in person
Yo, what should I do?
Play like heavy d and "don't curse"
He's a mean one, no a clean one, he's the king hon
{*sniff*} I smell blunts
Hey, ask him has he seen one!
It doesn't look like he has blunts in his handles
Looks, more like, a fifth of jack daniels
Look what you dropped!
Some crazy-ass shit for listeners
Up against the wall with the bitches
Damn, I wonder why he don't want the chronic like snoop
Because he's from tha alkaholik group!
(oh yeah yeah that's right)
There's one thing that can be certain
What's that?
They be mixin tanqueray with the squirt and
Downin st. ide's like water, oops (? ? ) what?
(? ? ) water, y'all can get looted
Cause king tee with the stupid fat funk, hey
What is this?
Advertisement..
Hah.. ah one-two
Yeah, when you're in that benz
It's advertisement..
That's some shit, shit!
Yo, ah one-two (yo yo yo)
Did you peep his walk?
Yeah he walks real cool
I guess that bulge in his coat is a tool
Yeah but for what?
For those who don't know who he is
The neighborhood jackers that bumrush kids
But yo I think he's straight, it looks like a 9 millimeter
Yeah pow-pow, nice to see ya
Look he's stretched like he just got released from the county
With a gang of little hoochies all around me
Well he always been a pimp
Haha, yeah that's true
Some say they bob with the k-swiss shoe
Aww, you're buggin
Nah man, that's the truth
They say, tela got hoes like luke
Fuck luke!
Yeah his records kinda shitty
King tee'll bust rhymes for the whole city
He's from compton
Yeah, just like most wanted
He drives a grey beamer with the blue pearl on it
It's advertisement
Ah one-two.. uh!
Ah one-two..
{*scratching "keep on"*}
Huh, yeah, ah one-two..
Well, guess who got the fat shit for 1994?
Who is that?
Alkaholik crew
Yeah I seen 'em on tour
That shit's wicked, wait, oopsy-daisy, here's your ticket
We paid $20 to see e-swift mix
Yeah he wrecks shop
Yeah that kid is kinda groovy
Rip the turntables then step with a cutie
Just get down, get down, the man like ed lover
Yeah, take his picture for the cover
It's Friday night on the streets of L.A.
I'm goin' out, been hangin' 'round the house all day
So, I take me a shower, dress like a big daddy
Stop at the Arco, put some gas in my caddy
Armor on my wheels, shine up my daytons
Check my 12-gage, I see jackers just waitin'
Got in my car, rolled up the tinted glass
Looked for my Zapp tape to pop in my dash
Can't find it, forget it, went under my seat
Found my old fired tape of the song 'Knee Deep'
So, I popped it in, then I pumped it up
Love hearin' funk because disco sucks
Body got chills when the basses started poundin'
I took off because I'm goin' to town and
Won't be back till mornin', don't have to go to school
Better get ready, I'm finna act a fool
The way I [Incomprehensible]
Now, I'm on the move, got a grand in my pocket
Reached for my phone, plugged it in the socket
Heard the dial tone, so I dialed up Aladdin
He answered the phone and said, "What's up?" I said, "What's happenin?"
He said, "Where you been? I been tryin' to get in touch
The party's in Watts," I said, "I don't give a fuck
If you wanna go, just wear neutral colors
If anybody asks you, just tell 'em you're my brother"
Stopped at the store to buy me a Cisco
A 40 ounce and some crackers by Nabisco
Amount and I pulled out a 10
And said, "Fuck it, Supersacco and gin
I'm finna act a fool"
Now, I'm drivin' down Compton on my way to get Aladdin
Feelin' like a pimp till my tape started draggin'
It's a old tape anyway, it ain't no thing
Pulled it out and slapped in Dana Dane
Got to Aladdin's house and I honked my horn
He said, "When we comin' back?" I said, "6 in tha morn"
So, he got in the car, lookin' half-dead
So, I gave him my Cisco and took the 40 to the head
Now, I'm feelin' tipsy and I'm headed for Watts
But wait, what do I see sittin' at the bus stop?
Sexy Susanna had a butt that kills
Pretty long hair but they say it's not real
Aladdin yelled, she threw a rock at my glass
So, I got out my car and drop-kicked her ass
I checked out my window, everything was cool
She was lucky, I was nice and I didn't act a fool
We finally arrived at the party, drunk as a jerk
Got out my car, pressed the kit, so the alarm, would chirp
After that we made our way, I tried not to fall
Couldn't walk a straight line if they let me crawl
Got to the door and what spots my eye?
My homeboy, Mr. Prince, and he's smokin' some Thai
So, I stumbled his way and said, "Hey, pass the jay"
I took a hit for my mouth spray
This girl asked me to dance but I told the hoe no
'Cause she was on my tip cause of my big gold rope
But it seems she got offended, that's splendid
Before she starts somethin', I just slap her and end it
'Cause I feel like a gangster and I just don't care
About a girl with fake drag, fake eyes, fake hair
Fake clothes, fake nails and all that fake jewelry
All she wanna do is tell her friends that she screwed me
I get nutty, act a fool when I want to
Run up when I'm drunk and I just might pump you
Take your car, your wife, keep talkin', your life
Beat you down, like your down and have you smokin' the pipe
Do you know why? Do you know, do you know why? 'Cause I'm cool
Well, kill me
Shoot me, muthafucka
I gotcha
Yo nigga, let's go scoop up some of these hoes at the 'paradise', man
Hey man, ah - I'm engaged now, man
What?
I'm engaged
To that bitch?
Aw man, don't be talkin about my woman like that
Oh, now you're gon' trip on me
Wait, wait, hold up, hold up
[ verse 1: king tee ]
How you gon' go and put a hoe before me?
When I'm the one that helped your broke ass on the streets
'damn, I'm starvin, what you got to eat?
I'm short, I need a place to sleep'
Oh, but amnesia, that damn skeezer
Made you forget who was down witcha
I thought birds of a feather flock together
And don't a damn thing change but the weather
But now I know the real, I guess I had it all wrong
We used to hit the ides until the shit was all gone
Where was she when you needed niggas off your ass
And who'd you come to get to go blast?
Not that once-a-month-bleedin, always on her knees
Suckin every tom, dick and harry like a berry
I seen her with a trick at the motel 6
And you still tryin to get that bitch afro fix
She got you by the nuts, playin with your wiener
Wrapped around her finger when the last time you seen her
Well, when you do, bust her lip
And if you don't, you'se a bitch
So sit down when you piss, muthafucka
(it's a shame, but it ain't no thang to me) --> deadly threat
[ verse 2: deadly threat ]
The bitch got you gone, talkin on a phone
Tellin muthafuckas when you see me, it's on
But little do he know that she a zero
And I'm still her favorite superhero
See, I got the 411 on a hoe
Just like I was tellin you before
You're just a piece of the mission
Guess where her lips been?
I told you don't be kissin, but you don't listen
[ king tee ]
Yeah, jaws (jaws) jaws the only hoe I ever saw
That could suck a basketball through a straw
She don't like niggas with nissan trucks
Unless they got the monster bumps
[ deadly threat]
That's right, honey, bunny's money-hungry
And she'll frame ya, she's out to getcha
Get the picture, cause the bitch'll
Take you for a long-ass ride like the hitcher
So don't be surprised if they find you in a ditch
With your guts hangin out lookin like top ramen
And when I see the bitch, I'm bombin
Cause she's a false tenderony, plus tossed balony
And she ain't your home, she's a hoe
Don't put a hoe before the homie
(hey yo bitch, you better tell em) --> ice cube
[ verse 3: ice cube ]
Who's wearin the pants, who's wearin the pants, nigga?
If you ask me, I think that her dick is bigger
Than your little dick, and I'm tellin you, jay
The bitch got you locked down like pelican's bay
Now I told you if you fuck with the hoe
She's guaranteed to have you trippin
And me and you set-trippin
I told my muthafuckin crew
To kidnap the hoe, and they came back with you
[ king tee ]
I can't fade a nigga that's bitch-made
Kool-aid pumpin, tell a bitch somethin
She'll have your ass cookin dinner
While she's lettin every nigga in her hood run up in her
[ ice cube ]
Got you runnin like bruce ginner, and the hoe be
Pussy-whippin your ass like toby
Now you act like you don't know me
Only a mark'll put a hoe before the homies
Word - this muthafucka is different
Yeah
Tell me your secret
Not just any secret
Just answer one question for me, baby
Do you love me?
I love you
Very, very, very, very much
Baby
Can I come pick you up and take you shoppin?
Spend all my money...
I love you
I love you
{*whispered*}
Love me.. give me love..
Give me love food..
Give me love, so that I can.. kill..
Give me love, because I can.. kill..
He's not real.. (the devil) and she must die..
Die.. (he is the son of man, he is the son of God)
{*beat drowns out whispered vocals*}
[king tee]
Three strike you're out they're makin niggaz behave
No more slaps on the wrist gettin 90 days
Welcome to the next level, it's the new world order
Snatch ya like a tractor, might kill ya for a quarter
I put that on my moms, that's on everything I love
Nigga what? catch a l, make you cry like a dove
So sucka free is the only way for me
You don't get paid just for bein o.g.
We've been had, we've been tricked, we've been played
Right when we, went left, for what? we shoulda stayed
Stressed all the homies just to show they mean business
Rushed 'em with the quickness, killed 'em with the sickness
Tried to save his life, give him cpr, huh
Somethin for the lungs, fat african drums
So clear up your sinus and keep your nose clean
Khakis so hot it makes the one-time stop
[chorus]
Three strikes, you're out, then a nigga pays
We in the cage, black man is bein slayed
Three strikes, you're out, then a nigga pays
We in the cage, black man is bein slayed
[king tee]
Get with the lyrical miracle whippin up
Gingerbread cookies out you rookies, huh
I can't stands no more, grab the floor
Hit the deck when I let loose the tec (c'mon)
'nique, freak any beat nigga
Westside 106 (? ) street, uhh
The loco's, chocolate like cocoa
Get your punk-ass balled up in the trash (ahh!)
You stepped on my stars, motherfucker say sorry
This wild style's like lion country safari
This is for my loc's back at the ponderosa
Check my file, bring it to trial
Get with that new, ninety-fo' shit
Yes it's funky like a jackass, don't even trip
I got pages and pages of metaphoric phrases
Too complex for the human eye to catch
It's the, gangsta boogie, do you want a example
Or do you just wanna taste a sample?
Out of control, gone, warped, zoned, toned
Hand me the heater, I need the speakers
Sparks, flames, no name but peep game
Smoke like a choo-choo train
It's the criminal minded nigga king tee
With the westside riders, comin creepin crawlin like spiders
We've been bit by the dog, call the catcher stretcher
Judge fletcher betcha, raise your blood pressure
The unsolved mystery, mixed up our history
Put us in the twist, we no longer exist, like
.. dinosaurs dissapeared, then it's like
.. mine and yours dissapear, so it's like
Servin soon, here comes your doom
Right when the world go ka-boom, so am i
Sane, or, sick in the brain?
Or do everybody style sound the same? (yep)
[chorus] - 2x
[outro]
Yeahh... beat terrorist.. (? )
Tr, the funk ignitor
My nigga king tee with the funky west shit right?
Check this out..
I'ma bust it off like this for Compton
Yo! Whassup? Yo.. what's happenin, what's happenin?
E-Swift, you cuttin the records nice boy
DJ Pooh whassup man? We all chillin
Yo, yo, J-Ro's in the house, we all cold coolin out y'knahmsayin?
And I'ma bust it off like this for Compton
Look who sprung up, comin the fuck up
I came in the place to let you know what's up
with a bunch of trunk jewerly
Two or three fat gold chains, ring plates with my name on 'em
Yeah I rhyme fly, real fly Hobbes
I wear Nike's cause I run from the cops
Pops taught me lots he said ";Toys are for tots";
At four, bought me a box, when I was six I wore a jock
cause, my jimmy was gettin kinda big
At nine I was a kid but I took my first swig
Hugged that Olde English beer
So my peers wouldn't think that I was queer
Yeah, right off I got the title of a gangsta
Pranksters run because they know that there ain't a
person, runnin a verse on like this, hahahaha..
Whassup? This at your own risk, sucker
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk! Uhh!
";Marley Marl remix.."; This at your own risk SUCKER!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
People always say, ";Are you the King of the West?";
But there's always some pest who try to put you to the test
even though, they know I'm King, I'm on a higher level
I even dust the church and sold they soul to the devil
I mean really, how you think I'm livin?
On the strength I'm livin like Thanksgiving
So yo, whassup turkey, tryin to jerk me?
Your rhymes don't work see, you can't hurt T
The almighty individual, you said you knew
but I don't think you really know about
the K-I-N-G super cool mack daddy
I drive a Caddy, and I'm livin fatly
Had me on stage in a rage
Yellin was what ya know, that's how I get paid
Made my mark but rappers still insist, to diss
but yo it's at your own risk sucker
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk! C'mon, SUP?
";Marley Marl remix.."; - ";Marley Marl remix single of..";
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
Bust the break!
{*Marley Marl cuts and scratches*}
Verse three!
Is another one for those to remember
King Tee is the champ, smashin all contenders
For those who disbelieve, just step in my direction
I'm snappin arms, legs and even necks and
suckers who thrive to drive me crazy
You know the ones who front tryin to amaze me
Take it as a warnin cause I'm hopin that you don't diss
But get a load of this, it's at your own risk..
sucker!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
{*Marley Marl cuts and scratches*}
C'mon get funky, get, get funky
C'mon c'mon get funky
Ahh oh, ohh yeah get funky
Aww ooooooh shit! This at your own risk
(This at your own risk suckers)
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
Yeah, E-Swi..
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
Ahhh..
";This at your own risk.."; This at your own risk!
Aww you're doggin it man
";This at your own risk..";
SEE-YA!
{*Marley Marl cuts and scratches to fade*}
";Warning..";
[King Tee w/ a voice modulator]
Ahhhhhhh..
Where da hoes at? Where da hoes at?
Where da hoes at? Where da hoes at?
Where da hoes at? Where da hoes at?
Where da hoes at? Where da hoes at?
Please can I go, huh, please can I go?
I don't wanna kick it in your pocket no mo'
I need some pussy bad, I need some pussy bad
And I don't give a fuck if the bitch is on the pad
Mr. Applebaum, you gotta put me on
to fuck Anita, pump up the bass and not the tweeter
Huh, I really need her, huh, I really need her
Or if you know another bitch then I would like to meet her
Huh
Where's the hoes at? Where's the hoes at?
Where's the hoes at? Where's the hoes at?
Where's the hoes at? Where's the hoes at?
Where diggy diggy diggy where's the hoes at?
(Well, alright)
Oh shit
Many, many asked if I knew the way to go
I thought I knew the answer, it seems I wouldn't, so
I picked and I picked, for the label I searched
I slipped and I tripped for the pop, it didn't work
So now I take the stage of my what? 3rd comeback
Now I know the tricks of the trade and where the slum's at
Blows to the chest, buckshots from the guage
Page after page King Tee takes the rage
Lord have mercy when I pick up my pen
Then I ask the Lord to forgive me for my sins
'Cause I get drunk when I get trucked
There go some gunshots, wait, I gotta duck
(Get down, fool, get down)
What everybody runnin' fo'?
(Aww shit!)
Can't take the plug of a .38 slug
Can't take the drug from the teenage thug
So I'ma break loose and do a flip-flop top
And land on my feet and show a drunk tekneek
Couldn't walk a straight line, ladies and gentlemen
I couldn't walk a straight line if you let me crawl
Leanin' to the side, I know I'm drunk, man
Leanin' to the side, people everywhere
Well, alright, wants to get funked up
M-M-MC's seem to get souped when they group
With a big name but see, none of them is game
For the royal, loyal, the one that stole yo
Coupe De Ville when you thought you could chill
On my street, with your freak, to freak me, the freak
Played out along the week and fell steep in the creek
So I'ma put my crown upon the peak
And do it just for the thieves with the jeeps
I know you feel scared, I got a criminal path
For a laugh I watch devils get whipped by Shaft
Pooh has a mack-10, E-Swift's in the Benz with a glock
Takin' some young girl's cock
I grab that geno-St. Ides by the stack
Never smoked crack but I drunk a lotta 'yac
Mostly by the cup, grabbin' my nuts to the beat
featuring Ice Cube
* this song was originally a St. Ide's Malt Liquor commercial
it's appearance on promotional St. Ide's mixtapes caused
public outcry and both the tape and the commercial were pulled
[King Tee]
Now step up to the King Tee's beer stand
And let me know what beer is grand
No no wait I got somebody that might convince ya
Hold up hold up wait
[Ice Cube]
Once again it's on, I'm goin out the front do'
Ice Cube in the glass house, headed for the sto'
To get a beer that's better than the rest
The S-T-Period-I-D-E-to-the-S
And it'll put hair on your chest
In the black can, so won'tcha grab a six pack and
Get your girl in the mood quicker
Get your jimmy thicker, with St. Ide's Malt Liquor
[King Tee]
Hold up hold up
So when you get a forty, roll to the spot
Hug and kiss your girl and screw the cap off the top
And get a taste of the beer that makes you tingle
And just remember that jingle
[singers]
Here's something that sweepin the nation by surprise
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