I Shot Ya (Freestyle)

[Intro]
Yeah, what the fuck!
Jay-Z, Marcy, Brooklyn
Representin' the, what, what
Roc-A-Fella y'all, for life
Stretch Armstrong
Bring the noise, haha
Clown-ass niggas (Yeah)
You know how we get down

[Verse 1]
Uh, Roc-A-Fella's capo, unflappable
Test my weight in the Apple
Never a question of if, but when you gonna die like cattle
Beef, I go at it so rugged, you swear, I love it
Is that so, hard to learn?
My burner give niggas permanent heart murmurs
If that ain't reason for concern (woo!)
My, crew endangers
Estranged miscellaneous niggas
Left in troubled waters like Greg Louganis
Ain't nothin' touchin' from Brooklyn to Metuchen
Or wherever the fuck you cats rest your head at, dead that
The last time you seen us, niggas popped up in Beamers
Shopped up in Neiman's, locked hip-hop up between us
Squeamish rappers stay out of my space like Venus
Or it's Soulshocker, Jigga Niggademus
Murderous writin', not a word of it to your likin'
Since we make you hate to love it like Prince
'Til a nigga feel straight like Bill Gates
Or feel a mil'-eight, we gon' spill hate, in-fil-trate
Die! It's your fate, realize the great
Get your hardhats, professionals rockin', nigga, wait
Timing's everything, everything that glitters ain't gold
There's diamonds in every ring, what the fuck!
In the driver's seat, nigga used to live in the back
Muggsy Bogues style, now a nigga bigger than Shaq
Crib in the Cat, skills, living phat
Chickens that used to act ill
Fuck y'all, I ain't forgivin' that (Fuck y'all!)
A nigga bitter so, when a nigga hit you, believe (Ugh)
I'm tryna hurt your stomach like ten thousand sit-ups (Yeah)
Jigs, baby, what it is! Just as casual
You blast for me, you better believe I blast for you
Yeah!

[Interlude]
Yeah, uh-huh, yeah
Every time, y'all (Roc-A-Fella, y'all)
What, what, Jay-Z, huh (What, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, Roc-A-Fella y'all (Marcy)
What, we rock on y'all, representin' the
Yeah, yeah uh-huh
(Let these niggas know)
West Coast niggas, man
Getting out of line, man
Watch your step, haha
Fuck around
Yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2]
Yo, react, biatch nigga
Think they can fuck with the rich nigga
Jigga, they can't touch ya
Say y'all, we livin' like S-T-A-RS
You faggot niggas don't play yours, my team'll slay yours
Naysayers, can't fuck around we lay yours
With our hands up there, shit, I swear to God
Since money's respected you know I had to get it
Collect it like antiques, and let it stack
Brrrrrrr, like that
I mastered this fast shit, now I move on
'Cause too many bastards tried to get they groove on
And now you see me jiggy, you puzzled
He ain't sellin' no records, is he? That nigga gotta hustle
Shit, you bet your guns, by any means, I get my ones
You intervene, by any means, I get ya done
For real