1.Introduction
2.At Your Own Risk
.. it's at your own {＊repeating, getting louder＊}
.. it's at your own .. 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 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
Uhh! this at your own risk, sucker..
P-puh, puh-p-puh-p-puh-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 (？？).. {＊echoes＊}
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 ooooooh shit!
It's at your own risk suckers, knowhati'msayin？
Yeah, e-swift, scratch that in
Awwww yeah..
Aww you're doggin it man, y'knowhati'msayin？
See ya!
3.Ruff Rhyme(Back Again)
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)
4.On The Dance Tip
5.Jay Fay Dray
6.Skanless
7.Take You Home
8.Diss You
(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 - ehm
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 superglue
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
I shoulda dissed you
9.Time To Get Out
10.Can This Be Real
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 canabis
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 homie 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
(tell me, can this be real？)
11.E Get Swift
12.Do Your Thing
13.King Tee Production
14.Played Like A Piano
aw shit, i
Wanna dedicate this song to all them motherfuckers out there
that-that-that-
That-that-that-that (not again) perpentratin'...perpetratin'...
perpin'
Tratin'. wait, rewind. (eh but yo...king tee, man, what is this？
what is
This？)
Some cool 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 ya'll be poppin' some shit that's unheard of.
For you, what's the word？ uh...(wack!)...it's murder, son.
When i be crushin' your hood with a passion,
And i ain't talkin' that action jackson.
When i come you better run for ammo,
Or get played like a 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...
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 eas-i-ly re-main to be-e a top mc.
When you see me, i wear a beanie, and not a kangol.
Now you got played, like a fuckin' piano.
This is just a sample of three black nig-roes
Who grew up in the heart of the ghetto.
Doin' what we had to just to make ends meet,
Some steal for a livin', some stand on the street,
Just slang. some gang-bang, but big deal.
They say in compton, you gotta kill or get killed.
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.
Peace to ice cube and breeze, and the fuckin' piano.
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