I Shot Ya

I Shot Ya - LL Cool J/Keith Murray

Lyrics by：Jean Claude Olivier/James Todd Smith/James Brown/Lyn Collins

Composed by：Jean Claude Olivier/James Todd Smith/James Brown/Lyn Collins

Play this one

Hold up I'm play this one

Down uh

Check it check it check it

Uh uh

Check it check it check it

I oh well check it check it check it

Jack masters

Check it check it check it

For everybody now

Check it check it check it

Oh my n***as now

Check it check it check it

Yeah we but service won't up nice now I mean

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 'cause I cock ya love ya girlies fallin'

Uh what's my function lyrical injection

Blazin' n***as hittin' 'em raw with no protection

I take advantage

Ya fear me I'm doin' damage

Ya hear me

The whole scenario is dreary

M c's is gettin' wet up in the game

I meet you up in Memphis just call my name

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

I shot ya uh

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' s**t with no purpose

Laced up mind charmer mad drama

What goes around comes around not around farmers

Silence sh 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 s**t

Young fools get dicked L L rules the s**t

With a platinum fist the relentless abyss

I take you to a land where piranhas like to kiss

Massacre muah blowin' up the tour bus passengers

Chuckin' the color outta cartoon character

Ya get serious

Real n***as recognize what my theory is

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to uh uh uh uh

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to uh uh uh uh

Uh uh uh oh lookin' kinda leery

Ya clique thought I fell off they didn't want to 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 blowin' 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 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 uh uh become a zombie walk to me

Ain't a M C alive who fought with me

Y'nah mean man rock it

Easy does it

I gotta pluck it like buzzards

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

I shot ya

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad

Ya want to

Ya want to

Ya want to hit give me a hour

Plus a pen and a pad