I Shot Ya feat. Keith Murray

歌詞

Blaze this one, word up! I'ma blaze this one No doubt! Uhh, check it, check it, check it Uhh, uhh, check it, check it, check it I'm Uncle L, check it, check it, check it The Trackmasters, check it, check it, check it Now everybody now, check it, check it, check it All my niggas now, check it, check it, check it Yeah, we 'bout to serve this one off nice, y'nahmean? Word up, check it! I shot ya! I'm splittin' brothers open like a doctor Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth got'cha I drop ya down in boilin' acid Ya melt like plastic, elastic, is drastic Violations, room vibrations, son Cock the hammer let the Uncle give em one Done take a flick of a wicked lunatic Puttin hits on your clique, got'cha wife in turnin' tricks What? You don't wanna, I thought that you was bawlin' Now watch cos I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin' Uh, what's my function? Lyrical injection Blazin' niggas, hittin' 'em raw with no protection I take advantage Ya fear me, I'm doin' damage Ya hear me The whole scenario is dreary MC's is gettin' wet up in the game I meet you up in Memphis, just call my name I shot ya Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad I shot ya Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad I shot ya I got ya strapped to the stage and Trapped in a cage and, tongue kissin' a Gauge and Ya mob's locked down underneath the surface Ya gettin' nervous for talkin' shit with no purpose Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama What goes around comes around, not around farmers Silence, shhhh, very deadly Come and battle, let me add you to my medley Possessin' power, takin everything I can grasp Go get it now, why you always dwellin' on the past? Baby boys reminiscin' old school shit Young fools get dicked, LL rules the shit With a platinum fist, the relentless abyss I take you to a land where piranhas like to kiss Massacre, mmuh, blowin' up the tour bus passengers Chuckin' the color outta cartoon character Ya get serious Real niggas recognize what my theory is I shot ya Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad I shot ya Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad I shot ya Word up, I'ma lace this shit crazy, y'nahmean? Word up, we're gonna blow the spot up, kid No doubt about it Yeah, yeah, I ain't through, I ain't through, I ain't through Uh-uh-uh-oh, lookin' kinda leary Ya clique thought I fell off, they didn't wanna hear me Oh really, now teel me how long have you been whinin'? Sixteen years, twenty million albums, yeah you're climbin I love your joint Rock The Bells, it was mad hot Ya record 'bout the Radio was blowin' up my spot My girl was on your chip when you flipped I Need Love Your backseat countset was mad butter, son I loved your boomin' system it was wicked as could be You bad, now I'm writin' on your pink cookies And you had me screamin' Mama Said Knock Ya Out Ya jinglin', baby, no doubt Uh, talk to me (what, what, uhh, uhh) become a zombie, walk to me Ain't a MC alive who fought with me Y'nahmean? Mad rugged Easy does it I got em flockin' like buzzards I shot ya Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad I shot ya Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad Ya wanna Ya wanna Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Plus a pen and a pad I shot ya Ya wanna Y'nahmean? This is how we gettin' down for crizzown No diggity, y'knowI'msayin? Trackmasters lace me, y'knowI'msayin? And I take care of mines, y'knowImean? That's it son! Peace!