T.O.S.
I move the keys, they call me the piano man
I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man
I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man
I got that girl, you want her come and get her man
Hook X4
Call me the Piano Man
Tony Yayo
Cartier glasses, Cartier belt
Cartier Watch tell me time somewhere else
Like Germany, Sweden and Serbia
Nigga one or two birds and I'm servin ya
I'ma ball like Julius, Erving, Iverson and Manning
I got that cannon in that two door phantom
Nigga hundred EX sh*t, suicide doors
Get a top or low fade, now the body lookin' hard
This snake ass niggas is reptiles
'til I shoot em up and fill em up with projectiles
Yay' got the best style, Yay' got the best clothes
Yay' got the best weed, Yay' got the best hoes
Yeah!
50 Cent (Chorus)
I move the keys, they call me the piano man
I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man
I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man
I got that girl, you want her come and get her man
Hook X4
Call me the Piano Man
Lloyd Banks
Yeah
Fresh out the rimshot, my wheels tick-tock
My steel six shot, the paint flip flop
My charm truckie that's why they wanna fu*k me
207 McLaren, body like Buffy
Old head get rusty, and I'm a can of oil
If Hip-Hop do die, a 100 grand'll boil
Show up at your bougie event, get your body harmed
Slide you all over the stage like Omarion
Don't need a party calm, on the pepsi and bacardi bomb
Bail ain't nothin, I make a Gotti bond
Magician, I can make a dollar flip
Stick a whole Corona bottle in a model chick
50 Cent (Chorus)
I move the keys, they call me the piano man
I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man
I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man
I got that girl, you want her come and get her man
Hook X4
Call me the Piano Man
Young Buck
I'm richer than a muthafu*ka ridin' in a dirty ass phantom
We kill undercovers down here we can't stand em
Fill up the door panels and stuff the floor boards
I can fit a hundred in a Honda Accord
Blood of a drug lord, brain of a baller
Hand of a hustler, I'm all about a dollar
Everybody's a customer, Nobody's a friend
Somebody gotta do it, anybody can win
If I did it then, I can do it now
When we get 'em in, we just ship 'em out
A Gucci briefcase, dressed in a suit & tie
Cartier's you can tell that I
50 Cent (Chorus)
Move the keys, they call me the piano man
I'm classically trained, nobody do it better man
I do my thang, with me and my Beretta man
I got that girl, you want her come and get her man
