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Versuri LL Cool J - I Shot Ya remix
Versuri-versuri.ro > Versuri Litera L > Versuri LL Cool J > Mr. Smith - I Shot Ya remixfeaturing Fat Joe  Foxy Brown  Keith Murray  Prodigy  
  
 Verse One: Keith Murray  
  
 Haaah! (wooooooo!)  
 Yeah  (hah  hah  hah  hah) L.O.D.  
 Keith Murray  Def Squad  
 Mista  Mista  Mista  Mista Smith  
 You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?)  
 Uhh  gimme an hour plus a pen and a pad  
  
 Yo... I'm here to make a dollar out of fifteen cents  
 And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin a shit  
 My style is all that  and a big bag of chips wit the dip  
 Fuck all that sensuous shit  
 I represent intellectual violence  
 And leave your click holier than the Ten Commandments  
 Like Redman I shift with tha ruck  
 If ya if was a spliff we'd be all fucked up [Word up!]  
 No need to ask you who is he, Son I get busy  
 Scuff my Timbs on the boulevard of many ruff cities [Chicago, LA, any of them]  
 I'll have to Norman Bate ya I love ta hate ya  
 Cause youse a freak by nature  
 Can't wait to face ya, mutilate ya  
 Drink your style down straight wit no chaser [Word up!]  
 My verbal combat's like a mini-Mac to your back  
 As soon as one of you niggaz try to over react [BLAOW!]  
 Tha L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp [Word up!]  
 Break your concentration, murder your camp  
 For tha jealous, overzealous, we fellaz  
 Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis  
 Niggaz comin through and actin wild  
 Y'all commercial niggaz better have a Coke and a smile  
 I SHOT YA!  
  
 Verse Two: Prodigy  
  
 Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to begin again  
 Forgot what I already knew, aiyyo you hear me friend?  
 Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body  
 Secret society, tryin to keep they eye on me  
 But I'm stay incogni', in places they can't find me  
 Make my moves strategically, the G.O.D.  
 It's sorta similar but iller than a chess player  
 I use my thinker, it coincides with my blinker  
 While you wondered what we sayin on the records real  
 Yeah you motherfuckin right kid you know the deal  
 My Mobb is Infamous just like the fuckin title read  
 You get back slapped so hard make ya nose bleed  
 Some ---- kids feeling guilty bout the ----  
 But you first baby girl so just face it (awright)  
 But anyway, back on the real side of things  
 My niggaz sling cracks and wear fat diamond rings  
 Not only is it inside the songs that we sing (kid)  
 Everything is real not just a song that we sing (word up, it's real)  
 From my life to the paper (what), very accurately  
 Give you all of my two so maybe you can three  
 Prodigy will forever will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine)  
 My shit attract millions like the moon attract the sea  
 How dare you ever in your life walk past me  
 Without acknowledgin this man as G-O-D  
 I shot ya faggot ass  
  
 Verse Three: Fat Joe  
  
 Now who the fuck you think you talkin to, I pay dues I spray crews  
 Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news  
 Runnin this racket, from New York to Montego  
 Slaughterin people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico  
 I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer  
 These bitch ass niggaz know we stronger  
 Than these weaklings, seekin, for respect that ain't there  
 Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air  
 Tommy guns for fun, shotties for block parties  
 While fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of Bacardi  
 Call the ambulance, this man's wet  
 Bullets cut him down from the root up just like a Gillette  
 razor, which I keep hidden in my oral  
 Ready to spatter, at any ad out, that wants to quarrel  
 These feds want me for some tax evasion  
 Now that the fact that somebody's gettin lucci that's not caucasian  
 Bullets be blazin through these streets filled with torture [what the deal pop]  
 Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Ceaser  
  
 Verse Four: Foxxy Brown  
  
 Thug niggaz give they minks to chinks  
 To' down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashin rings and things [what the deal]  
 Frontin hardcore deep inside the Jeep, mackin  
 Doin my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king  
 Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggaz for they chedda  
 Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers  
 Flossin rocks like the size of Fort Knox  
 Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy bangin like Versace locs pops [what the deal]  
 Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeks  
 I'm sexin raw dog without protection, diseaese infested  
 Uh, Italiano got the Lucciano  
 I gets down fuckin with Brown Fox extra keys to the drop  
 Boo I'm Jingling Baby, I got crazy Dominicans who pay me  
 to lay low, I play slow  
 Roll with tha Firm, Mafiaso crime king pin  
 It all real nigga what tha deal  
 I shot ya!  
  
 Verse Five: LL Cool J  
  
 What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole world  
 Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl  
 But still, niggaz want to instigate shit  
 I'll battle any nigga in tha rap game quick  
 Name the spot, I make it hot for ya bitches  
 Female rappers too, I don't give a fuck boo  
 Word, I'm here to crush all my peers  
 Rhymes of the month in The Source for twenty years  
 Niggaz scared, I'm detrimental to your mental state  
 I use my presedential Rolex to be debate  
 Niggaz fight, glock cocked ya temple gets fucked  
 MC's, that fuck with LL they gets bucked  
 That's real, what's up with that I Shot Ya deal?  
 Light shit, niggaz slip now how the bullet feel?  
 New York appeal, in L.A. they gang bang  
 But if you touch a mic your motherfuckin ass hang  
 That's facts, niggaz don't recieve no type of slack  
 Cause if they do, they ass is always runnin back  
 Not this time, but next time I'ma name names  
 LL, shittin from on top of the game  
 I SHOT YA
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