Who shot ya

Who shot ya Lyrics

* originally from the 'Big Poppa' vinyl 12"

Intro: Puff Daddy

As we proceed
to give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf**kers
get live motherf**kers -- 2X

As we proceed
to give you what you need
East coast motherf**kers
Bad Boy motherf**kers

BIG - Now turn the mics up
Turn that mic up, yea that beat is knockin
to that microphone
Turn that sh*t the f**k up
Uh, what?
Turn it up louder
Yea, uh

As we proceed, to give you
what you need
J.M. motherf**kers
J.M. motherf**kers
9 to 5 motherf**kers

Verse One:

Who shot ya?
Seperate the weak from the ob-solete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on nigga, f**k 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
f**kin 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 motherf**ker 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 motherf**kers
get live motherf**kers

As we proceed
to give you what you need
East coast motherf**kers
Bad Boy motherf**kers

Get high motherf**kers
Get high motherf**kers
Smoke blunts motherf**kers
Get high motherf**kers
Ready to die motherf**kers
9 to 5 motherf**kers

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 f**k 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 motherf**kers
Ready to Die motherf**kers)

C'mere, c'mere [it ain't gotta be like that Big]
open your f**king mouth, open your... didn't I tell you
don't f**k with me? [*muffled* c'mon man] Huh?
Didn't I tell you not to f**k 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 motherf**kers) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth huh?
(get live motherf**kers) b**ch-ass nigga, what?
(get live motherf**kers) [*muffled sounds, six gun shots*]
(as we proceed...) Who shot ya?

Outro: Puff Daddy

...to give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf**kers
Get live motherf**kers

(Who shot ya?)

Get high motherf**kers
Ready to Die motherf**kers
Hah!!
As we proceed...

(Who shot ya?)

...to give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf**kers
East coast motherf**kers

(Who shot ya?)

West coast motherf**kers...
West coast motherf**kers... hah!
As we proceed, to give you what you need
As we proceed
to give you what you need
Get live motherf**kers
9 to 5 motherf**kers
Get money motherf**kers

As we proceed
to give you what you need
Get live motherf**kers
9 to 5 motherf**kers
J.M. motherf**kers
J.M. motherf**kers
As we proceeeeeeed
To give you what you need...
9 to 5...