I Shot Ya - Remix Lyrics
| Song | I Shot Ya - Remix |
| Artist | Foxy Brown |
| Artist | LL Cool J |
| Artist | Keith Murray |
| Artist | Fat Joe |
| Artist | The Prodigy |
| Album | All World 2 |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : James Brown/James Todd Smith/Jean Claude "Poke" Olivier/Jean Claude Olivier/Lyn Collins | |
| 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 track masters, 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 | |
| I shot yaI'm splittin' brothers open like a doctor | |
| Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth gotcha | |
| I drop ya down in boilin' acid | |
| Ya melt like plastic, elastic, is drastic | |
| Violations, room vibrations, son | |
| Cock the hammer let the uncle give em one | |
| Done take a flick of a wicked lunatic | |
| Puttin' hits on your clique, gotcha wife in turnin' tricks | |
| What? You don't wanna, | |
| I thought that you was bawlin' | |
| Now watch 'cos | |
| I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin' | |
| Uh, what's my function? | |
| Lyrical injection | |
| Blazin' niggas, hittin' em raw with no protection | |
| I take advantage | |
| Ya fear me, | |
| I'm doin' damage | |
| Ya hear me | |
| The whole scenario is dreary | |
| MC's is gettin' wet up in the game | |
| I meet you up in | |
| Memphis, just call my name | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| I shot ya!(Uhh) | |
| I got ya strap to the stagin' | |
| Trapped in a cagin', toe kissin' a | |
| CajunYa Mob's locked down underneath the surface | |
| Ya gettin' nervous for talkin' shit with no purpose | |
| Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama | |
| What goes around comes around, not around farmers | |
| Silence, shh, 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 reminiscin' 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, mmuh, blowin' up the tour bus passengers | |
| Chuckin' the color outta cartoon character | |
| Ya get serious | |
| Real niggas recognize what my theory is | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| I shot ya!(Uhh) | |
| 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, | |
| I ain't thru, | |
| I ain't thru, | |
| I ain't thru | |
| Uh-uh-uh-oh, lookin' kinda | |
| LearyYa clique thought | |
| I fell off, they didn't wanna hear me | |
| Oh really, now tell me how long have you been runnin'? | |
| Sixteen years, twenty million albums, yeah you're climbin' | |
| 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 backseat count set 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 become a zombie, walk to me(What, what, uhh, uhh) | |
| Ain't a MC alive who fought with me | |
| Y'nahmean? | |
| Man, rock it | |
| Easy does it | |
| I gotta pluck it like buzzards | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(What, what, what, what, what)(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| Ya wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| I shot yaYa wanna(Uhh)(Uh, what?) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh)(Y'nahmean? This is how we gettin' down for crizzown) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(No dignity, y'knowi'msayin?)(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| Ya wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna(Yeah) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Track masters lace me, y'knowi'msayin')(And I take care of mines, y'knowimean?)(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna(Uhh) | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour(Uhh) | |
| Plus a pen and a pad(Uhh, check it, check it, check it!)(That's it son)(Peace) |
| zuo qu : James Brown James Todd Smith Jean Claude " Poke" Olivier Jean Claude Olivier Lyn Collins | |
| 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 track masters, 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 | |
| I shot yaI' m splittin' brothers open like a doctor | |
| Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth gotcha | |
| I drop ya down in boilin' acid | |
| Ya melt like plastic, elastic, is drastic | |
| Violations, room vibrations, son | |
| Cock the hammer let the uncle give em one | |
| Done take a flick of a wicked lunatic | |
| Puttin' hits on your clique, gotcha wife in turnin' tricks | |
| What? You don' t wanna, | |
| I thought that you was bawlin' | |
| Now watch ' cos | |
| I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin' | |
| Uh, what' s my function? | |
| Lyrical injection | |
| Blazin' niggas, hittin' em raw with no protection | |
| I take advantage | |
| Ya fear me, | |
| I' m doin' damage | |
| Ya hear me | |
| The whole scenario is dreary | |
| MC' s is gettin' wet up in the game | |
| I meet you up in | |
| Memphis, just call my name | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot ya! Uhh | |
| I got ya strap to the stagin' | |
| Trapped in a cagin', toe kissin' a | |
| CajunYa Mob' s locked down underneath the surface | |
| Ya gettin' nervous for talkin' shit with no purpose | |
| Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama | |
| What goes around comes around, not around farmers | |
| Silence, shh, 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 reminiscin' 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, mmuh, blowin' up the tour bus passengers | |
| Chuckin' the color outta cartoon character | |
| Ya get serious | |
| Real niggas recognize what my theory is | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot ya! Uhh | |
| 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, | |
| I ain' t thru, | |
| I ain' t thru, | |
| I ain' t thru | |
| Uhuhuhoh, lookin' kinda | |
| LearyYa clique thought | |
| I fell off, they didn' t wanna hear me | |
| Oh really, now tell me how long have you been runnin'? | |
| Sixteen years, twenty million albums, yeah you' re climbin' | |
| 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 backseat count set 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 become a zombie, walk to me What, what, uhh, uhh | |
| Ain' t a MC alive who fought with me | |
| Y' nahmean? | |
| Man, rock it | |
| Easy does it | |
| I gotta pluck it like buzzards | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad What, what, what, what, what Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh Uh, what? | |
| Ya wanna Uhh Y' nahmean? This is how we gettin' down for crizzown | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad No dignity, y' knowi' msayin? Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Track masters lace me, y' knowi' msayin' And I take care of mines, y' knowimean? Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! That' s it son Peace |
| zuò qǔ : James Brown James Todd Smith Jean Claude " Poke" Olivier Jean Claude Olivier Lyn Collins | |
| 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 track masters, 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 | |
| I shot yaI' m splittin' brothers open like a doctor | |
| Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth gotcha | |
| I drop ya down in boilin' acid | |
| Ya melt like plastic, elastic, is drastic | |
| Violations, room vibrations, son | |
| Cock the hammer let the uncle give em one | |
| Done take a flick of a wicked lunatic | |
| Puttin' hits on your clique, gotcha wife in turnin' tricks | |
| What? You don' t wanna, | |
| I thought that you was bawlin' | |
| Now watch ' cos | |
| I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin' | |
| Uh, what' s my function? | |
| Lyrical injection | |
| Blazin' niggas, hittin' em raw with no protection | |
| I take advantage | |
| Ya fear me, | |
| I' m doin' damage | |
| Ya hear me | |
| The whole scenario is dreary | |
| MC' s is gettin' wet up in the game | |
| I meet you up in | |
| Memphis, just call my name | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot ya! Uhh | |
| I got ya strap to the stagin' | |
| Trapped in a cagin', toe kissin' a | |
| CajunYa Mob' s locked down underneath the surface | |
| Ya gettin' nervous for talkin' shit with no purpose | |
| Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama | |
| What goes around comes around, not around farmers | |
| Silence, shh, 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 reminiscin' 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, mmuh, blowin' up the tour bus passengers | |
| Chuckin' the color outta cartoon character | |
| Ya get serious | |
| Real niggas recognize what my theory is | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot ya! Uhh | |
| 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, | |
| I ain' t thru, | |
| I ain' t thru, | |
| I ain' t thru | |
| Uhuhuhoh, lookin' kinda | |
| LearyYa clique thought | |
| I fell off, they didn' t wanna hear me | |
| Oh really, now tell me how long have you been runnin'? | |
| Sixteen years, twenty million albums, yeah you' re climbin' | |
| 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 backseat count set 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 become a zombie, walk to me What, what, uhh, uhh | |
| Ain' t a MC alive who fought with me | |
| Y' nahmean? | |
| Man, rock it | |
| Easy does it | |
| I gotta pluck it like buzzards | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad What, what, what, what, what Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| I shot yaYa wanna Uhh Uh, what? | |
| Ya wanna Uhh Y' nahmean? This is how we gettin' down for crizzown | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad No dignity, y' knowi' msayin? Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna Yeah | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Track masters lace me, y' knowi' msayin' And I take care of mines, y' knowimean? Uhh, check it, check it, check it! | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna Uhh | |
| Ya wanna hit, give me a hour Uhh | |
| Plus a pen and a pad Uhh, check it, check it, check it! That' s it son Peace |
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