Who Shot Ya? - 2005 Remaster

As we proceed
To give you what you need
Nine to five, motherfuckers
Get live, motherfuckers
As we proceed
To give you what you need
Nine to five, motherfuckers
Get live, motherfuckers
As we proceed (turn the mics up)
To give you what you need (turn the mic up, yeah, that beat is knockin' to that microphone)
East coast, motherfuckers (turn that shit the fuck up) (ug, what?)
Bad Boy, motherfuckers (turn it up louder, yeah, uh)
As we proceed, to give you
What you need
J.M. motherfuckers
J.M. motherfuckers
Nine to five, motherfuckers

Who shot ya?
Separate the weak from the obsolete
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
Niggas 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

Niggas 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
Nine to five, 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
Nine to five, motherfuckers

I seen the light excite all the freaks
Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps
Niggas wanna creep, got to 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'here, c'here (it ain't gotta be like that, Big)
Open your fucking mouth, open your
Didn't I tell you don't fuck with me? 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)
(Nine to five, 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)
Nine to five, motherfuckers
Get live, motherfuckers
(Who shot ya?) get high motherfuckers
Ready to die, motherfuckers

As we proceed (who shot ya?)
To give you what you need
Nine to five, motherfuckers
East coast motherfuckers (who shot ya?)
West coast, motherfuckers
West coast, motherfuckers

As we proceed
To give you what you need
As we proceed
To give you what you need
Get live, motherfuckers
Get live, motherfuckers
Nine to five, motherfuckers
Get money, motherfuckers

As we proceed (to give you what you need)
Nine to five, motherfuckers
Get live, motherfuckers
Nine to five, motherfuckers
J.M., motherfuckers
J.M., motherfuckers
As we proceed
To give you what you need (what 'ya gon' do?)
Nine to five



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Wallace, Sean Puffy Combs, Allie Wrubel, Herbert Magidson, Nashiem Sa Allah Myrick
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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