practice you piano No soprano's in to man but a piano's always grand And grand pianos in a band make money darling And so each afternoon when I come home from school I practice like a bloody fool You can't imagine all the awful things I play
my knees And roll my stockings down And all that jazz Start the car I know a whoopee spot Where the gin is cold But the piano's hot It's just a noisy
low ones off me A magnet brought you to me Told me your name was Jo You said you liked my music And you really [Incomprehensible] show, oh Now I wanna play piano
way keep on moving forward and dont give up,no lets go back in time back to music of my mind with stevie playing piano just for you So what happened
of being a star, But he learnt piano instead of guitar Which in the 90s didn't get you very far So while the other kids were learning Stairway He was the piano
, he was the assistant preacher and the Sunday school teacher In the church that I grew up in She was looker from Atlanta, led the choir, played piano
d be a star, But he learnt piano instead of guitar, Which in the nineties didn't get you very far, So while the other kids were learning Stairway He was the piano
{*piano roll*} [Ranking Scroo] Well I mean Man. Ranking Scroo 'long side E-40, ya hear? All crew, pick up yourself Thou respect who say, everything's
ones off me A magnet brought you to me Told me your name was Jo You said you liked my music And you really did enjoy the show Now I wanna play piano
no longer there today From Monday until Friday at school we'd learn and play Then back at school on Sunday that's where I learned to pray [ piano ] Our
. Oh they mad cause I Shyne like Jamal Barrow? And they say I?m so proud, but I?m like, I know. I do this thing nobly like Manu. Ten I know, grand like piano
meet you in the brotherhood of man when I was traveling a long way from my home and you are a friend of mine. Black is the piano you play at school
, he was the assistant preacher And the Sunday school teacher In the church that I grew up in She was a looker from Atlanta Led the choir, played piano
at the top of my lungs about my guns and my loved ones Got, tons of ammo to crack your enamel Changin your channel, you played like a fuckin piano Ridin
shrivel, flambe like plantains The shit I scribble belittle your hardest riddles You faggots is all skills, cupcakes with soft middles See I'm old school
've never seen anybody rock the party All you funky beat-aholics, this beat's Bacardi I go to the show, and terrorize emcees, don't you know Moving my hand like I'm playing the piano
that 70's era finished for the rest of his life, till he fades out The liquor store workers miss him but then it plays out so many ways out the hood