'em feel Touch my private, my thing made of steel Shootin' gizm, she ride like a Geo Prism I'm out in Cali, San Bernardino Valley I'm on the hill, not
to me, yo The theme song to the Sopranos Plays in the key of life on my mental piano Got a strange way of seein' life like I'm Stevie Wonder with, beads
Kamal, I'm in completely zone It's rap time for you, that means nap time Preachin' from my joint, what the I'ma clap mine Singin songs of 6 pence it'
ain't got the upper hand I'm respected from California way down to Japan I'm a real producer and you just the piano man Your song gonna top the charts, I heard 'em, I'm
got the upper hand I'm respected from californ.i.a. way down to japan I'm a real producer and you just the piano man your song gonna top the charts, I heard em, I'm
I ain't got the upper hand I'm respected from californ.i.a. way down to japan I'm a real producer and you just the piano man your song gonna top the charts, I heard em, I'm
the music down Before the words down What music? The song There is no song No, really Really what? There is no song I'm just, playing and plinking on the piano
Now I don't understand what happened to our love But babe, I'm gonna get you back I'm gonna show you what I'm made of I can see you Your brown skin
You know my wandering days are over Does that mean that I'm getting boring? You tell me? I'm tired of listening to myself now I'm tired of fixing things
I'm gonna tie my pink bandana on 'Cause what don't kill me make me strong Sing my Billie (Holiday) "Strange Fruit" song And dig my roots up. . .Congo
'm back homie and I hold weight like I'm fat Tony Like a Soprano I stay with the ammo Push keys and make music but don't play the piano You could get blam, yo, I'm
How can I go on when every thought hurts? I flirt with the notion of no more songs My old familiar foe, self pity haunts me I?m stuck in some over-the
s and O's Bloody tic-tac-toe Not in your song I'm not your singer Not in your poem I'm not your stanza I'm not a color In your rainbow But now which
Oscar don't allow no piano-playing here Oscar don't allow no piano-playing here All: Now we don't care what Oscar don't allow Gonna play our piano
(spoken introduction) Little Richard: Hi! I'm waiting for my friend Rosita. She's supposed to be here to help me sing a song about the way she makes me
the end of the original record is heard this cute exchange: Ernie: Okay, you can turn it over now. Herry: Sure thing, Ernie. (sound of piano crashing) Ernie: Herry! Not the piano
Sesame Street News. I'm speaking to you from the studio of that eminent singer and songwriter, Mr. Don Music, who's hard at work on his latest song. Let
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