My Piano - Hi-Tek, Ghostface Killah, Raekwon

Yeah, yo, they wonder why I play my piano

Why I stay low-key, why I’m always in the studio

Heh, that’s what I do, you playing with the game

I play my piano… yeah

Is it the love for the money or the love for the game?

Is it the love from the honies or the love for the chains?

Is it because, most of these little niggaz is wack?

Or because the game is yelling «Bring that real shit back»?

Is it because of the limelight I’m just trying to be famous?

Is it cuz the game dying and I’m just trying to save it?

Maybe I’m just successful, so much I won’t be cool with 'em

Maybe it’s because I’m crazy, just in love with my music

Hi-Tek…

They wonder why I play my piano

You can’t deny it if it’s in you

Get that money, that monero

Wait any longer, it will stress you

Aiyo, flying threw the Aspens in Claiborne glasses

Burning a Churchhill, a bad bitch dumping the acid

It’s Bailey’s on ice with big straws

Moneray boxers gleaming while the twin gloss stuck to my drawers

Jadakiss baldy with chicks on me, bricks on me French/German murder, Swiss Army, you can never snitch on me

I’m too strong, I’m spinning my web, across town

In rough places and black alleys, getting that bread

If I get broke I’ll sell slabs of soap

Beach bags of smoke, told y’all I don’t fuck with Tone Loc

This is a Staten Island thing, you could ask Saulhadin

We wilding without Deck while we become very violent

Until then, I play the piano

Luciano on the base, Mariano on the block with the sage

I’ma grind 'til my seeds is grey

Still young when I’m eighty, pop in Cialis and fuck all day (Huh)

Got the hood jumping, Champion sweats

Nike Flight suit, boots on, 'bout to put in and then jet

Streets love killas, brothers with swords

Suede front, spraying pumps, lobbies where the losses is brought

New shotties for the youngsters

Got trees, sit in the weeds, white T’s on looking for Munsters

Everybody punched in, it’s lunchtime

Look at the line, yo I moulded this design

My gunsmiths?

We carry two four-fives, trooper tired

But got that gun that shoot stupid fire

Bagging up work, I’m back on the Earth

About to make something happen fast, put a stack in my shirt

Yo, all the covers you could hear

Monster status, yeah, year of the great ones, a griz bear

Make mines, you know a nigga rip lines

It’s part of the character, but other than that yo I’m on bitch time

Yeah, jump up, hang down, nigga, Staten…