Luyện nghe bài hát I Shot Ya (remix)

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

Yo, I'm here to a dollar out of fifteen cents
And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin a
My is all that, and a big bag of chips wit the dip
Fuck all sensuous shit
I represent violence
And your click holier than the Ten Commandments
Like Redman I with the ruck
If ya if was a spliff be all fucked 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 wait to ya, mutilate ya
your style down straight wit no chaser (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 niggas better have a Coke and a smile
I ya!

Yo, I conversate wit many men, time to begin again
Forgot what I knew, hey yo you hear me friend?
want my mind, soul, and my body
Secret society, trying to keep eye on me
But I'm stay incogni', in places can't find 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
While you what we saying on the records real
Yeah you motherfucking right kid you the deal
My Mobb is Infamous just like the fucking title
You get back slapped so make ya nose bleed
Some, feeling guilty bout the,
But you first baby so just face it (alright)
But anyway, back on the real side of
My niggas sling cracks and wear fat rings
Not only is it inside the that we sing (kid)
Everything is real not just a that we sing (word up, it's real)
From my life to the paper (what), accurately
you all of my two so maybe you can three
Prodigy will will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine)
My shit attract millions like the moon the sea
How you ever in your life walk past me
Without this man as G-O-D
I ya fagot ass

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

niggas give they minks to chinks
To' we sip drinks rockin minks,
rings and things (what the deal)
Fronting hardcore deep the Jeep, macking
Doing my thing fly you a Scarface king
Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggas for they
it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers
Flossing rocks like the of Fort Knox
Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy
Like Versace locs (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 to the drop
Boo I'm Jingling Baby, I got Dominicans who pay me
To lay low, I play
Roll with the Firm, crime king pin
It all nigga what tha deal
I ya!

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