Текст песни LL Cool J f Fat Joe, Foxy Brown, Keith M - I Shot Ya (remix), слова песни LL Cool J f Fat Joe, Foxy Brown, Keith M

Текст песни LL Cool J f Fat Joe, Foxy Brown, Keith M - I Shot Ya (remix)

LL Cool J f Fat Joe, Foxy Brown, Keith M - I Shot Ya (remix) слова песни

[Verse One: Keith Murray]Haaah! (wooooooo!)Yeah, (hah, hah, hah, hah) L.O.D.Keith Murray, Def SquadMista, Mista, Mista, Mista SmithYou wanna hit? (You wanna hit?)Uhh, gimme an hour plus a pen and a padYo... I`m here to make a dollar out of fifteen centsAnd let my balls hang like I`m on a toilet takin a shitMy style is all that, and a big bag of chips wit the dipFuck all that sensuous shitI represent intellectual violenceAnd leave your click holier than the Ten CommandmentsLike Redman I shift with tha ruckIf ya if was a spliff we`d be all fucked up [Word up!]No need to ask you who is he, Son I get busyScuff my Timbs on the boulevard of many ruff cities [Chicago, LA, any of them]I`ll have to Norman Bate ya I love ta hate yaCause youse a freak by natureCan`t wait to face ya, mutilate yaDrink your style down straight wit no chaser [Word up!]My verbal combat`s like a mini-Mac to your backAs soon as one of you niggaz try to over react [BLAOW!]Tha L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp [Word up!]Break your concentration, murder your campFor tha jealous, overzealous, we fellazBlow the the spot like Branford MarsalisNiggaz comin through and actin wild Y`all commercial niggaz better have a Coke and a smileI SHOT YA![Verse Two: Prodigy]Yo, I conversate wit many men, it`s time to begin againForgot what I already knew, aiyyo you hear me friend?Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my bodySecret society, tryin to keep they eye on meBut I`m stay incogni`, in places they can`t find meMake my moves strategically, the G.O.D.It`s sorta similar but iller than a chess playerI use my thinker, it coincides with my blinkerWhile you wondered what we sayin on the records realYeah you motherfuckin right kid you know the dealMy Mobb is Infamous just like the fuckin title readYou get back slapped so hard make ya nose bleedSome ---- kids feeling guilty bout the ----But you first baby girl so just face it (awright)But anyway, back on the real side of thingsMy niggaz sling cracks and wear fat diamond ringsNot only is it inside the songs that we sing (kid)Everything is real not just a song that we sing (word up, it`s real)From my life to the paper (what), very accuratelyGive you all of my two so maybe you can threeProdigy will forever will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine)My shit attract millions like the moon attract the seaHow dare you ever in your life walk past meWithout acknowledgin this man as G-O-DI shot ya faggot ass[Verse Three: Fat Joe]Now who the fuck you think you talkin to, I pay dues I spray crewsLook I`m Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he`s bad newsRunnin this racket, from New York to MontegoSlaughterin people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto RicoI`d rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longerThese bitch ass niggaz know we strongerThan these weaklings, seekin, for respect that ain`t thereKnuckleheads beware, there`s mad tension in the airTommy guns for fun, shotties for block partiesWhile fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of BacardiCall the ambulance, this man`s wetBullets cut him down from the root up just like a Gilletterazor, which I keep hidden in my oralReady to spatter, at any ad out, that wants to quarrelThese feds want me for some tax evasionNow that the fact that somebody`s gettin lucci that`s not caucasianBullets be blazin through these streets filled with torture [what the deal pop]Joey Crack, a.k.a. Keyser Soze[Verse Four: Foxxy Brown]Thug niggaz give they minks to chinksTo` down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashin rings and things [what the deal]Frontin hardcore deep inside the Jeep, mackinDoin my thing fly nigga you a Scarface kingBitches grab ya ta-ta`s, get them niggaz for they cheddaFuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathersFlossin rocks like the size of Fort Knox Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy bangin like Versace locs pops [what the deal]Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeksI`m sexin raw dog without protection, diseaese infestedUh, Italiano got the LuccianoI gets down fuckin with Brown Fox extra keys to the dropBoo I`m Jingling Baby, I got crazy Dominicans who pay meto lay low, I play slowRoll with tha Firm, Mafiaso crime king pinIt all real nigga what tha dealI shot ya![Verse Five: LL Cool J]What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole worldCrushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T`s girlBut still, niggaz want to instigate shitI`ll battle any nigga in tha rap game quickName the spot, I make it hot for ya bitchesFemale rappers too, I don`t give a fuck booWord, I`m here to crush all my peersRhymes of the month in The Source for twenty yearsNiggaz scared, I`m detrimental to your mental stateI use my presedential Rolex to be debateNiggaz fight, glock cocked ya temple gets fuckedMC`s, that fuck with LL they gets buckedThat`s real, what`s up with that I Shot Ya deal?Light shit, niggaz slip now how the bullet feel?New York appeal, in L.A. they gang bangBut if you touch a mic your motherfuckin ass hangThat`s facts, niggaz don`t recieve no type of slackCause if they do, they ass is always runnin backNot this time, but next time I`ma name names LL, shittin from on top of the gameI SHOT YA!

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