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' *** 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 ***

Young fools get dicked, LL rules the ***

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! [Chorus] I shot ya!

Word up, I'ma lace this *** 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! [Chorus: x3] 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!