Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot Ya

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

I ya!
I'm brothers open like a doctor
Ya fell asleep, the teeth got'cha
I drop ya down in acid
Ya melt like plastic, elastic, is
Violations, vibrations, son
Cock the hammer let the give 'em one
take a flick of a wicked lunatic
puttin' hits on your clique, got'cha wife in turnin'
What? You don't want to, I thought that you was
Now watch I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin'
Uh, what's my Lyrical injection
Blazin' niggas, hittin' 'em raw with no
I advantage
Ya me, I'm doin' damage
Ya me
The whole scenario is
is gettin' wet up in the game
I meet you up in Memphis, just my name
I ya!

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

I ya! (uh)
I got ya to the stagin'
in a cagin, toe kissin' a Cajun
Ya mob's down underneath the surface
Ya gettin' nervous for shit with no purpose
Laced up, charmer, mad drama
What goes around 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 old school shit
fools get dicked, LL rules the shit
With a platinum fist, the abyss
I you to a land where piranhas like to kiss
Massacre, mmuh, up the tour bus passengers
Chuckin' the color cartoon character
Ya get
Real recognize what my theory is
I ya!

I ya!
Word up, lace 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' leery
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 your joint The Bells', it was mad hot
Ya record the Radio was blowin' up my spot
My girl was on your chip you flipped 'I Need Love'
backseat count set was mad butter, son
I your boomin' system it was wicked as could be
You bad, now I'm on your pink cookies
And you had me screamin' 'Mama Said Knock Ya
Ya jinglin', baby, no
Uh, talk to me (what, what, uh, uh) a zombie, walk to me
Ain't a MC who fought with me
Why'nah Man, rock it
Easy it
I pluck it like buzzards
I ya!

x3]

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