Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot Ya

Blaze this one, up!
I'ma blaze one
No doubt! uh, it, check it, check it!
uh, uh, check it, it, check 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 niggas now, check it, it, check it!
Yeah, we 'bout to this one off nice, why'nah mean?
Word up, it!

I ya!
I'm splittin' brothers open a doctor
Ya fell asleep, the vampire got'cha
I drop ya in boilin' acid
Ya like plastic, elastic, is drastic
Violations, vibrations, son
Cock the let the Uncle give 'em one
Done take a flick of a wicked
puttin' hits on your clique, got'cha in turnin' tricks
What? You don't want to, I thought that you was
Now watch 'cause I ya love, ya girlies fallin'
Uh, my function? Lyrical injection
niggas, hittin' 'em raw with no protection
I advantage
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, 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, 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 locked down the surface
Ya nervous for talkin' shit with no purpose
Laced up, charmer, mad drama
What around comes around, not around farmers
Silence, sh, deadly
and battle, let me add you to my medley
Possessin' power, takin' I can grasp
Go get it now, why you always on the past?
Baby boys reminiscin' old shit
Young fools get dicked, LL rules the
With a platinum fist, the relentless
I take you to a land where like to kiss
Massacre, mmuh, blowin' up the bus passengers
the color outta cartoon character
Ya get
Real niggas recognize my theory is
I ya!

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

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

x3]

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