Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot Ya

Blaze this one, up!
I'ma this one
No doubt! uh, check it, it, check it!
uh, uh, check it, check it, it!
I'm Uncle L, it, check it, check it!
The Trackmasters, check it, it, check it!
Now everybody now, it, check it, check it!
All my niggas now, it, check it, check it!
Yeah, we 'bout to serve this one off nice, mean?
up, check it!

I ya!
I'm splittin' brothers open a doctor
Ya fell asleep, the vampire got'cha
I drop ya down in acid
Ya like plastic, elastic, is drastic
Violations, vibrations, son
Cock the let the Uncle give 'em one
take a flick of a wicked lunatic
puttin' on your clique, got'cha wife in turnin' tricks
What? You want to, I thought that you was bawlin'
Now watch I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin'
Uh, what's my function? Lyrical
Blazin' niggas, hittin' 'em raw no protection
I advantage
Ya fear me, I'm doin'
Ya me
The whole is dreary
MC's is wet up in the game
I meet you up in Memphis, just call my
I ya!

x2]
Ya to (uh)
Ya to (uh)
Ya want to hit, me a hour (uh)
Plus a pen and a pad (uh, it, check it, check it!)
I ya!

I ya! (uh)
I got ya strap to the
Trapped in a cagin, toe kissin' a
Ya mob's locked down underneath the
Ya gettin' nervous for talkin' shit with no
up, mind charmer, mad drama
What goes comes around, not around farmers
Silence, sh, very
and battle, let me add you to my medley
Possessin' power, takin' I can grasp
Go get it now, why you dwellin' on the past?
Baby boys reminiscin' old shit
Young fools get dicked, LL rules the
With a fist, the relentless abyss
I take you to a land piranhas like to kiss
Massacre, mmuh, blowin' up the bus passengers
the color outta cartoon character
Ya get
Real niggas what my theory is
I ya!

I ya!
Word up, I'ma this shit crazy, why'nah mean?
Word up, we're gonna the spot up, kid
No doubt it
Yeah, yeah, I ain't through, I ain't through, I ain't

Uh-uh-uh-oh, lookin' kinda
Ya thought I fell off, they didn't want to hear me
Oh really, now me how long have you been whinin'
Sixteen years, million albums, yeah you're climbin'
I love joint 'Rock The Bells', it was mad hot
Ya record 'bout the Radio was up my spot
My girl was on your chip when you flipped 'I Need
backseat count set was mad butter, son
I loved your boomin' system it was as could be
You bad, now I'm writin' on your cookies
And you had me screamin' 'Mama Said Knock Ya
Ya jinglin', baby, no
Uh, talk to me (what, what, uh, uh) become a zombie, to me
a MC alive who fought with me
Why'nah mean? Man, it
Easy it
I gotta pluck it buzzards
I ya!

x3]

What, what, what, what,
Uh,
Why'nah This is how we gettin' down for crizzown
No diggity, I'm sayin'
Trackmasters me, why'know I'm sayin'
And I care of mines, why'know I mean'
it son!
Peace!