I Shot Ya

(альбом: Mr Smith - 1995)

Blaze this one, word up!
I'ma blaze this one
No doubt! Uh, check it, check it, check it
Uh, uh, 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'nah mean?
Word up, check it!

I shot ya!
I'm splitting brothers open like a doctor
Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth got you
I drop ya down in boiling 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
Putting hits on your clique, got your wife in turning tricks
What? You don't wanna, I thought that you was bawling
Now watch 'cause I cock ya love, ya girlies falling
Uh, what's my function? Lyrical injection
Blazing niggas, hitting 'em raw with no protection
I take advantage
Ya fear me, I'm doing damage
Ya hear me
The whole scenario is dreary
MC's is getting wet up in the game
I meet you up in Memphis, just call my name

I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)
I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)
I shot ya

I got ya strapped to the stage and
Trapped in a cage and, tongue kissing a Gauge and
Ya mob's locked down underneath the surface
Ya getting nervous for talking shit with no purpose
Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama
What goes around comes around, not around farmers
Silence, shh, very deadly
Come and battle, let me add you to my medley
Possessing power, taking everything I can grasp
Go get it now, why you always dwelling on the past?
Baby boys reminiscing 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, mm uh, blowing up the tour bus passengers
Chucking the color outta cartoon character
Ya get serious
Real niggas recognize what my theory is

I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)
I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)
I shot ya

I shot ya!
Word up, I'ma lace this shit crazy, y'nah mean?
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, looking kinda leary
Ya clique thought I fell off, they didn't wanna hear me
Oh really, now tell 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 blowing up my spot
My girl was on your chip when you flipped I Need Love
Your backseat count set was mad butter, son
I loved your booming system it was wicked as could be
You bad, now I'm writing on your pink cookies
And you had me screaming "Mama said knock ya out."
Ya jingling, baby, no doubt
Uh, talk to me (what, what, uh, uh) become a zombie, walk to me
Ain't a MC alive who fought with me
Y'nah mean? Mad rugged
Easy does it
I got em flocking like buzzards

I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)
I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)
I shot ya
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna (uh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it)

What, what, what, what, what
Uh, what?
Y'nah mean? This is how we getting down for crizzown
No diggity, y'know I'm saying?
Trackmasters lace me, y'know I'm saying?
And I take care of mines, y'know I mean?
That's it son!
Peace!