Blaze this one, word up! I'ma blaze this one No doubt! uh, check it, check it, check it! uh, uh, 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, why'nah mean? Word up, check it!
I shot ya! I'm splittin' brothers open like a doctor Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth got'cha 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, got'cha wife in turnin' tricks What? You don't want to, I thought that you was bawlin' Now watch 'cause 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 ya!
[Chorus: x2] Ya want to (uh) Ya want to (uh) Ya want to hit, give me a hour (uh) Plus a pen and a pad (uh, check it, check it, check it!) I shot ya!
I shot ya! (uh) I got ya strap to the stagin' Trapped in a cagin, toe kissin' a Cajun Ya 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, sh, 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 ya!
I shot ya! Word up, I'ma lace this shit crazy, why'nah mean? Word up, we're gonna blow the spot up, kid No doubt about it Yeah, yeah, I ain't through, I ain't through, I ain't through
Uh-uh-uh-oh, lookin' kinda leery Ya clique thought I fell off, they didn't want to hear me Oh really, now tell me how long have you been whinin' 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 (what, what, uh, uh) become a zombie, walk to me Ain't a MC alive who fought with me Why'nah mean? Man, rock it Easy does it I gotta pluck it like buzzards I shot ya!
What, what, what, what, what Uh, what? Why'nah mean? This is how we gettin' down for crizzown No diggity, why'know I'm sayin' Trackmasters lace me, why'know I'm sayin' And I take care of mines, why'know I mean' That's it son! Peace!