Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot Ya (remix)

Ha!
Yeah,L.O.D.
Keith Murray, Def
Mista, Mista, Mista, Smith
You wanna (You wanna hit?)
Gimme an plus a pen and a pad

Yo, I'm here to make a dollar out of cents
And let my balls like I'm on a toilet takin a shit
My style is all that, and a big bag of wit the dip
Fuck all that sensuous
I represent intellectual
And leave your holier than the Ten Commandments
Like I shift with the ruck
If ya if was a spliff we'd be all up (Word up!)
No to ask you who is he, Son I get busy
Scuff my Timbs on the boulevard of many ruff (Chicago, LA, any of them)
I'll to Norman Bate ya I love ta hate ya
you'se a freak by nature
Can't to face ya, mutilate ya
Drink your style down straight wit no (Word up!)
My verbal combat's a mini-Mac to your back
As soon as one of you niggaz try to over
The L.O.D. love confrontation or vamp (Word up!)
your concentration, murder your camp
For the jealous, overzealous, we
the the spot like Branford Marsalis
Niggas coming through and wild
Y'all commercial niggas better a Coke and a smile
I ya!

Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to again
Forgot what I already knew, hey yo you me friend?
Illuminati my mind, soul, and my body
Secret society, to keep they eye on me
But I'm stay incogni', in places they can't me
my moves strategically, the G.O.D.
It's sorta similar but iller a chess player
I use my thinker, it coincides my blinker
you wondered what we saying on the records real
Yeah you motherfucking right kid you know the
My Mobb is just like the fucking title read
You get back slapped so make ya nose bleed
Some, kids guilty bout the,
But you first baby so just face it (alright)
But anyway, back on the real of things
My niggas sling cracks and fat diamond rings
Not is it inside the songs that we sing (kid)
Everything is real not just a song that we (word up, it's real)
From my life to the paper (what), accurately
you all of my two so maybe you can three
Prodigy forever will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine)
My shit attract like the moon attract the sea
How dare you in your life walk past me
Without this man as G-O-D
I shot ya ass

Now who the fuck you think you talking to, I pay dues I crews
Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like bad news
Running this racket, New York to Montego
Slaughtering people, a ton of keys from Puerto Rico
I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts
These bitch ass know we stronger
Than these weaklings, seeking, for respect ain't there
Knuckleheads beware, there's mad in the air
Tommy for fun, shotties for block parties
fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of Bacardi
Call the ambulance, this wet
Bullets cut him down from the root up just like a
Razor, which I keep hidden in my
Ready to spatter, at any ad out, wants to quarrel
These want me for some tax evasion
Now that the fact that getting lucci that's not Caucasian
be blazing through these streets filled with torture (what the deal pop)
Joey Crack, a.k.a. Ceaser

Thug niggas give they minks to
To' down we sip rockin minks,
Flashing rings and (what the deal)
Fronting hardcore inside the Jeep, macking
Doing my fly nigga you a Scarface king
Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggas for they
Fuck it, sweaters and Armani leathers
Flossing rocks like the size of Knox
Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy
Like locs pops (what the deal)
Want ta the creep, on the raw ass cheeks
I'm raw dog without protection, disease infested
Italiano got the
I gets down fucking with Brown Fox extra keys to the
Boo I'm Jingling Baby, I got crazy who pay me
To lay low, I play
Roll with the Firm, crime king pin
It all nigga what tha deal
I ya!

What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole
Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl
But still, niggas want to shit
I'll any nigga in tha rap game quick
Name the spot, I it hot for ya bitches
Female rappers too, I give a fuck boo
Word, I'm here to crush all my
Rhymes of the in The Source for twenty years
Niggas scared, I'm detrimental to your state
I use my Rolex to be debate
Niggas fight, glock cocked ya temple gets
MC's, fuck with LL they gets bucked
That's real, what's up with that I Ya deal?
Light shit, niggas slip now how the bullet
New York appeal, in L.A. gang bang
But if you touch a mic your motherfucking ass
facts, niggaz don't receive no type of slack
Cause if they do, they ass is always running
Not this time, but next I'ma name names
LL, shitting on top of the game
I ya!