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Who Shot Ya

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

9 to 5 motherfuckers

Get live motherfuckers

As we proceed

To give you what you need

East coast motherfuckers

Bad Boy motherfuckers

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

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

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

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? [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)

(as we proceed...) Who shot ya?

...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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Lyrics powered by lyrics.tancode.com

written by Wallace, Christopher / Combs, Sean / Magidson, Herb / Wrubel, Allie / Myrick, Nashiem Sa-Allah

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Enjoy the lyrics !!!