I Shot Ya (remix) Lyrics

I Shot Ya (remix) lyrics

Verse One: Keith Murray 

 

 Haaah! (wooooooo!) 

 Yeah, (hah, hah, hah, hah) L.O.D. 

 Keith Murray, Def Squad 

 Mista, Mista, Mista, Mista Smith 

 You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?) 

 Uhh, gimme an hour plus a pen and a pad 

 

 Yo... I'm here to make a dollar out of fifteen cents 

 And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin a shit 

 My style is all that, and a big bag of chips wit the dip 

 Fuck all that sensuous shit 

 I represent intellectual violence 

 And leave your click holier than the Ten Commandments 

 Like Redman I shift with tha ruck 

 If ya if was a spliff we'd be all fucked up [Word up!] 

 No need to ask you who is he, Son I get busy 

 Scuff 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 ya 

 Cause youse a freak by nature 

 Can't wait to face ya, mutilate ya 

 Drink your style down straight wit no chaser [Word up!] 

 My verbal combat's like a mini-Mac to your back 

 As 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 camp 

 For tha jealous, overzealous, we fellaz 

 Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis 

 Niggaz comin through and actin wild 

 Y'all commercial niggaz better have a Coke and a smile 

 I SHOT YA! 

 

 Verse Two: Prodigy 

 

 Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to begin again 

 Forgot what I already knew, aiyyo you hear me friend? 

 Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body 

 Secret society, tryin to keep they eye on me 

 But I'm stay incogni', in places they can't find me 

 Make my moves strategically, the G.O.D. 

 It's sorta similar but iller than a chess player 

 I use my thinker, it coincides with my blinker 

 While you wondered what we sayin on the records real 

 Yeah you motherfuckin right kid you know the deal 

 My Mobb is Infamous just like the fuckin title read 

 You get back slapped so hard make ya nose bleed 

 Some ---- kids feeling guilty bout the ---- 

 But you first baby girl so just face it (awright) 

 But anyway, back on the real side of things 

 My niggaz sling cracks and wear fat diamond rings 

 Not 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 accurately 

 Give you all of my two so maybe you can three 

 Prodigy will forever will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine) 

 My shit attract millions like the moon attract the sea 

 How dare you ever in your life walk past me 

 Without acknowledgin this man as G-O-D 

 I shot ya faggot ass 

 

 Verse Three: Fat Joe 

 

 Now who the fuck you think you talkin to, I pay dues I spray crews 

 Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news 

 Runnin this racket, from New York to Montego 

 Slaughterin people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico 

 I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer 

 These bitch ass niggaz know we stronger 

 Than these weaklings, seekin, for respect that ain't there 

 Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air 

 Tommy guns for fun, shotties for block parties 

 While fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of Bacardi 

 Call the ambulance, this man's wet 

 Bullets cut him down from the root up just like a Gillette 

 razor, which I keep hidden in my oral 

 Ready to spatter, at any ad out, that wants to quarrel 

 These feds want me for some tax evasion 

 Now that the fact that somebody's gettin lucci that's not caucasian 

 Bullets be blazin through these streets filled with torture [what the deal
pop] 

 Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Ceaser 

 

 Verse Four: Foxxy Brown 

 

 Thug niggaz give they minks to chinks 

 To' down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashin rings and things [what the deal]


 Frontin hardcore deep inside the Jeep, mackin 

 Doin my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king 

 Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggaz for they chedda 

 Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers 

 Flossin 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 cheeks 

 I'm sexin raw dog without protection, diseaese infested 

 Uh, Italiano got the Lucciano 

 I gets down fuckin with Brown Fox extra keys to the drop 

 Boo I'm Jingling Baby, I got crazy Dominicans who pay me 

 to lay low, I play slow 

 Roll with tha Firm, Mafiaso crime king pin 

 It all real nigga what tha deal 

 I shot ya! 

 

 Verse Five: LL Cool J 

 

 What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole world 

 Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl 

 But still, niggaz want to instigate shit 

 I'll battle any nigga in tha rap game quick 

 Name the spot, I make it hot for ya bitches 

 Female rappers too, I don't give a fuck boo 

 Word, I'm here to crush all my peers 

 Rhymes of the month in The Source for twenty years 

 Niggaz scared, I'm detrimental to your mental state 

 I use my presedential Rolex to be debate 

 Niggaz fight, glock cocked ya temple gets fucked 

 MC's, that fuck with LL they gets bucked 

 That'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 bang 

 But if you touch a mic your motherfuckin ass hang 

 That's facts, niggaz don't recieve no type of slack 

 Cause if they do, they ass is always runnin back 

 Not this time, but next time I'ma name names 

 LL, shittin from on top of the game 

 I SHOT YA!