(Aiyo, Hi-Tek, play that tune for me) 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 cause 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 moñero 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 go 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'm a 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...