(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 [bad word] 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 [bad word] 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 [bad word] with Tone Loc 
This is a Staten Island thing, you could ask Saulhadin 
We wilding without Deck while we [bad word] 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 [bad word] 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 [bad word] rip lines 
It's part of the character, but other than that yo I'm on [bad word] time 
Yeah, jump up, hang down, [bad word]  Staten...