I Shot Ya

Album cover art for "I Shot Ya" by LL COOL J & Keith Murray

LL COOL J & Keith Murray - Rap, In English

I Shot Ya

22.3K Plays

Duration: 3:51

Lyrics

[Intro: LL Cool J] Blaze this one, word up! I'ma blaze this one No doubt! Uhh, check it, check it, check it Uhh, uhh, check it, check it, check it I'm Uncle L, check it, check it, check it The Trackmasters, check it, check it, check it Now everybody now, check it, check it, check it All my niggas now, check it, check it, check it Yeah, we 'bout to serve this one off nice, y'nahmean? Word up, check it! [Verse 1: LL Cool J] I shot ya! I'm splittin' brothers open like a doctor You fell asleep, the vampire teeth got ya I drop ya down in boilin' acid You melt like plastic, elastic, it's drastic Violations, room vibrations, son Cock the hammer let the Uncle give 'em one Done, take a flick of a wicked lunatic Putting hits on your clique, got your wifey turnin' tricks What? You don't want her, I thought that you was ballin' Now watch 'cause I cock your love, your girlies fallin' Uh, what's my function? Lyrical injection Blazin' niggas, hitting 'em raw with no protection I take advantage, you fear me, I'm doin' damage You hear me, the whole scenario is dreary Emcees is gettin' wet up in the game I meet you up in Memphis, just call my name [Chorus: LL Cool J & Keith Murray] I shot ya! Ya want a... (Uh) ya want a... (Uh) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, uh, check it, check it, check it) I shot ya! Ya want a... ya want a... (yeah) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, check it, check it, check it) I shot ya [Verse 2: LL Cool J] I got you strapped to the stage, and Trapped in a cage and tongue kissin' a Gauge and Your mob's locked down underneath the surface You're gettin' nervous, for talkin' shit with no purpose Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama What goes around comes around – not around Farmers Silence... shhh – very deadly Come and battle, let me add you to my medley Possessin' power, takin everything I can grasp Go get it now, why you always dwellin' on the past? Baby boys reminiscing old school shit Young fools get dicked, LL rules the shit With a platinum fist, the relentless abyss I take you to a land where piranhas like to kiss Massacre, mwah, blowin' up the tour bus passengers Suckin' the color out of cartoon character You get serious Real niggas recognize what my theory is [Chorus: LL Cool J & Keith Murray] I shot ya! Ya want a... (Uh) ya want a... (Uh) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, uh, check it, check it, check it) I shot ya! Ya want a... ya want a... (yeah) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, check it, check it, check it) I shot ya [Bridge: LL Cool J] I shot ya! Word up, I'ma lace this shit crazy, y'nahmean? Word up, we're gonna blow the spot up, kid No doubt about it Yeah, yeah, nah, I ain't through, I ain't through, I ain't through [Verse 3: LL Cool J] Uh-uh-uh-oh, lookin' kinda leary Your clique thought I fell off, they didn't wanna hear me Oh really? Now tell me, how long have you been rhyming? Sixteen years, 20 million albums, yeah, you're climbing I love your joint "Rock the Bells," it was mad hot Ya record 'bout the "Radio" was blowin' up my spot My girl was on your chip when you flipped "I Need Love" Your "Back Seat" concept was mad butter, son I loved your "Boomin' System," it was wicked as could be You "Bad," now I'm writin' on your "Pink Cookies" And you had me screamin' "Mama Said Knock Ya Out" Ya "Jinglin', Baby" – no doubt Uh, talk to me (What, what, uhh, uhh) Become a zombie, walk to me Ain't an emcee alive who fought with me Yah'mean? Mad rugged Easy does it, I got 'em flockin' like buzzards [Chorus: LL Cool J & Keith Murray] I shot ya (Yeah), ya want a... (Yeah), ya want a... (Yeah) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, check it, check it, check it) I shot ya, Ya want a... (uh), ya wanta... (uh) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, what, what, what, what, what) Ya wanna (yeah) ya wanna (yeah) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (Uh, what) I shot ya, Ya want a... ya want a... (Y'nahmean?) Ya want a hit, give me a hour, plus a pen and a pad (This is how we gettin' down for our crizzown) [Outro: LL Cool J] No Diggity, y'knowI'msayin? Trackmasters lace me, y'knowI'msayin? And I take care of mines, y'knowImean? That's it, son! Peace!

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Credits

Writers
  • LL COOL J
  • Poke
  • Lyn Collins
  • James Brown
  • Tone