I Shot Ya

[Intro:]

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!

[Chorus:]

Ya wanna (uhh)

Ya wanna (uhh)

Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uhh)

plus a pen and a pad (uhh, check it, check it, check it!!!)

I shot ya!

[repeat]

I shot ya! (uhh)

I got ya strap to the stagin

Trapped in a cagin, toe kissin a Cajun

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 colour outta cartoon character

Ya get serious

Real niggas recognise what my theory is

I shot ya!

[Chorus]

[Bridge:]

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 thru, I ain't thru, I ain't thru

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? Man, rock it

Easy does it

I gotta pluck it like buzzards

I shot ya!

[Chorus (x3)]

[Outro: (over chorus)]

What, what, what, what, what

Uh, what?

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!