King Tee Greatest Hits Collection[Ruff Rhymes]

1.Act A Fool

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-gauge, 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

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
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 n 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 (these fake or real？) she threw a rock in 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 iiwant 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 and have you smokin the pipe
(you know why？) cause i'm cool

(well, kill me!
Shoot me, muthafucka!)
(i gotcha)
(oh goddamn)


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.Bass

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!}
{＊samples＊}


4.Bust Dat Ass

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
Ass

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

Hook (x4)


5.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？)


6.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


7.Got It Bad Y'all

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
I'm a alkaholik and i'm late for my meeting


8.Guitar Playin'

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 gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊}

'listen to the guitar playin' {＊e. sermon＊}
'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 gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊}
'listen to the gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊}

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 (c'mon) motivation
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
Huh - 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 gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊}
'listen to the gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊}

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, huh
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 fila's from, how i learned my slang
How could i afford such a big gold chain
And fly girlies tempt me when (？) 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
(c'mon) here comes the funky breakdown

That's smooth man, that made me laugh at all these suckers man
You laughin too pooh？ (ye-ye-yeah, hahahahaha)

'listen to the gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊} (hahahahaha)
'listen to the gui-tar playin' {＊e. sermon＊} (hahahahaha)

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 y'know
But we want y'all to know, that see, me and my crew
We from compton, y'all heard about compton？ scratch compton
(compton!) aight, see that's where we from (compton!)


9.Just Clowning

.. 'it's the joint!'

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)

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)

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

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'

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!'

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 ..

Yo spade, cool out! man, we 'just clowning'

.. 'it's the joint!' (repeat 4x)


10.Payback's A Mutha

(intro)

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 wack
You shouldn't have did that brother
I'm here for the payback

(verse one)

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 muther

(scratch freestyle)

(verse two)

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 wack
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

(scratch freestyle)

(verse three)

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 tuff
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 krew
The master mind of the drum
Dj 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
Ya better get ready
My paybacks a muther

(scratch freestyle)


11.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.


12.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)


13.The Coolest

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 scratches＊}


14.Ya Better Bring A Gun

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

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)

Now you know this just don't make no kinda sense

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

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 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
Who blew up that mcdonald's on central and rosecrans, du？)