Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot Ya

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

I ya!
I'm brothers open like a doctor
Ya fell asleep, the vampire got'cha
I drop ya down in boilin'
Ya melt plastic, elastic, is drastic
Violations, vibrations, son
Cock the hammer let the Uncle 'em one
Done a flick of a wicked lunatic
puttin' hits on your clique, got'cha wife in turnin'
What? You don't want to, I thought you was bawlin'
Now watch 'cause I ya love, ya girlies fallin'
Uh, what's my function? Lyrical
niggas, hittin' 'em raw with no protection
I take
Ya fear me, I'm damage
Ya me
The whole is dreary
is gettin' wet up in the game
I meet you up in Memphis, call my name
I ya!

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

I ya! (uh)
I got ya strap to the
Trapped in a cagin, toe a Cajun
Ya mob's down underneath the surface
Ya gettin' for talkin' shit with no purpose
Laced up, mind charmer, mad
What around comes around, not around farmers
Silence, sh, deadly
and battle, let me add you to my medley
Possessin' power, takin' everything I can
Go get it now, why you always on the past?
Baby boys reminiscin' old shit
Young fools get dicked, LL rules the
a platinum fist, the relentless abyss
I you to a land where piranhas like to kiss
Massacre, mmuh, blowin' up the tour bus
Chuckin' the outta cartoon character
Ya get
niggas recognize what my theory is
I ya!

I ya!
Word up, I'ma lace 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, kinda leery
Ya clique thought I fell off, didn't want to hear me
Oh really, now tell me how long you been whinin'
years, twenty million albums, yeah you're climbin'
I love your 'Rock The Bells', it was mad hot
Ya 'bout the Radio was blowin' up my spot
My girl was on chip when you flipped 'I Need Love'
backseat count set was mad butter, son
I loved your system it was wicked as could be
You bad, now I'm writin' on your pink
And you had me screamin' 'Mama Said Ya Out'
Ya jinglin', baby, no
Uh, to me (what, what, uh, uh) become a zombie, walk to me
Ain't a MC alive who with me
Why'nah Man, rock it
does it
I gotta pluck it buzzards
I ya!

x3]

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