G-Clef Da Mad Komposa - Piano Gangsta lyrics

[Intro: Fes Taylor, (G-Clef Da Mad Komposa)] Yeah, Chambermusik, Two 4 War Entertainment Taylor, Yo Clef what it is baby, (It's nothing man) Uh huh (Just let these fools know what time it is with you man) [Fes Taylor] They say Taylor falling off, Well it's a long drop from the top Hard enough to make the concrete crack if I flop And I still got crack on the block So my income, It come like I'm cashing a lot A fetish for j**elry your pa**ion is shot Still, I threaten the jury, Blasting the Glock See times pa**ing on the clock, I'm tryna take the batteries out A G until the coroners carry me out A salary ouch, Hurt a broke n***a's feeling We ain't got college degrees, So my n***as dealing Four wheel'n the drop, You see the ceiling This n***a squealing, So we concealing Only revealing when it comes to dealing with drama That's nine llamas to your baby Momma Shouts to Big Gill, Every dollar he invest Some n***as talk about, Clef write it on the check [Chorus 2X: Fes Taylor] I'm a piano gangsta, I'm just playing with these keys So much ice on they saying I'm a freeze Like it's cold outside, Below zero degrees Growing up, n***as on corners they was heroes to me [Fes Taylor] Ayo, I'm too cool to be a fool, Too fly to even do Any type of s**er sh**, Just look how my hustle groove I seen a couple crews crumble through the struggle too Yeah I had to struggle too, Just to get comfortable Nah that ain't enough for you, Hip Hop still got love for you Tryna get something new for the summer group I play the corner guzzle'n brews, Honies with hair do's That stop stare and smile at my dudes Since days one-four-two break bread, I'm the state champ World wide, Can enter pa**port, Ain't scared Now it's back to Park Hill, I'm Shaolin's finest So now when they speak to me it's pardon me your highness Inside of me feel like a part of me is dying Cause I just got word that my Grandfather dying So I'm still in the studio writing these hits While n***as in the business still biting my sh** [Chorus] [Fes Taylor] Might see me with Yung Budd, Hoes say I'm a young stud Most n***as yelling one blood, I'm yelling one dove It takes one slug to put you under the rug Under a house, Picture a corpse covered with bugs Cause you snitching, Caught, Crib covered with bugs Not roaches, Speaking CD's think I'm talking bout d** On the phones I ain't talking bout much If you hear me saying that we eating listen I ain't talking bout lunch Crunch n' Munch breaks the Fruity Pebble chain Ruby red rains, Kind of like a booty of a dame Wow, I raise my brow up like The Rock Still down for a flip I get it twenty a whop I sell it thirty a pop, But if I bag it I can make sixty thousand at times, That's a lot I guess I'm just a chip off the old block You know first my Grand Pop's did it Then my Pop's, Now it's my turn [Chorus 4X]