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Correct Who Shot Ya Lyrics
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The Notorious B.I.G.
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Correct Who Shot Ya
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Intro: Puff Daddy As we proceed To give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get live motherfuckers -- 2X As we proceed To give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers BIG - Now turn the mics up Turn that mic up, yea that beat is knockin to that microphone Turn that shit the fuck up Uh, what? Turn it up louder Yea, uh As we proceed, to give you What you need J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse One: Who shot ya? Seperate the weak from the ob-solete Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets It's on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek Your heartbeat soun like Sasquatch feet Thundering, shaking the concrete Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots Saw me in the drop, three in the corner Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter Old school new school need to learn though I burn baby burn like Disco Inferno Burn slow like blunts with ya-yo Peel more skins than Idaho potato Niggaz know, the lyrics molestin is takin place Fuckin with B.I.G. it ain't safe I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses Bumps and bruises, blunts and Landcruisers Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools Niggaz mad because I know that Cash Rules Everything Around Me, two glock nines Any motherfucker whispering about mines And I'm, Crooklyn's finest You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this Interlude: As we proceed To give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get live motherfuckers As we proceed To give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Smoke blunts motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Ready to die motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse Two: I seen the light excite all the freaks Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps Niggaz wanna creep, got ta watch my back Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack? I switches all that, cock-sucker G's up One false move, get swiss cheesed up Clip to Tec, respect I demand it Slip and break the, 11th Commandment Thou shalt not fuck with raw C-Poppa Feel a thosand deaths when I drop ya I feel for you, like Chaka Khan I'm the don Pussy when I want Rolex on the arm You'll die slow but calm Recognize my face, so there won't be no mistake So you know where to tell Jake, lame nigga Brave nigga, turned front page nigga Puff Daddy flips daily I smoke the blunts he sips on the Bailey's On the rocks, tote glocks at christenings And my cock, in the fire position and... (Get live motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers) C'mere, c'mere [it ain't gotta be like that Big] Open your fucking mouth, open your... didn't I tell you Don't fuck with me? [*muffled* c'mon man] Huh? Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me? (as we proceed) [c'mon man] Look at you now (to give you what you need) Huh? [c'mon man] (9 to 5 motherfuckers) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth huh? (get live motherfuckers) Bitch-ass nigga, what? (get live motherfuckers) [*muffled sounds, six gun shots*] (as we proceed...) Who shot ya? Outro: Puff Daddy ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get live motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) Get high motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers Hah!! As we proceed... (Who shot ya?) ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers East coast motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) West coast motherfuckers... West coast motherfuckers... hah! As we proceed, to give you what you need As we proceed To give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get money motherfuckers As we proceed To give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers As we proceeeeeeed To give you what you need... 9 to 5...
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