The Notorious B.I.G. - Who Shot Ya?

Official audio to The Notorious B.I.G's "Who Shot Ya?" (C) 1994 Bad Boy Records Lyrics: [Intro: Puffy] As we proceed to give you what you need 9-5, motherfuckers Get live, motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need 9-5, motherfuckers Get live, motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need Now turn the mics up East Coast, motherfuckers Turn that mic up Bad Boy, motherfuckers Yeah, that beat is knocking to that microphone Turn that shit the fuck up Uh, what? Turn it up louder, yeah, uh As we proceed to give you what you need J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers 9-5, motherfuckers [Verse 1] 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 sound like Sasquatch feet Thundering, shaking the concrete Then the shit stop when I foil the plot Neighbors call the cops, said they heard mad shots Saw me in the drop, three and a quarter 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 yayo Peel more skins than Idaho Potato Niggas know: the lyrical molesting is taking place Fucking with B.I.G. it ain't safe I make your skin chafe, rashes on them asses Bumps and bruises, blunts and Land Cruisers Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools Niggas mad because I know that cash rules Everything around me two Glock 9s Any motherfucker 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 9-5, 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 9-5, motherfuckers [Verse 2] I seen the light excite all the freaks Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps Niggas wanna creep, gotta watch my back Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack? I switches all that, cocksucker 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 nor see Poppa Feel a thousand 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 Baileys On the rocks, tote Glocks at christenings Hammer cock, in the fire position and... [Outro] Come here, come 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? (Come on, man) Huh? Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me? (Come on, man) Look at you now, huh? (Come on, man) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth, huh? Bitch-ass nigga, what? Who shot ya? [6 gunshots]​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ [Outro: Puffy] To give you what you need 9-5, 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 9-5, motherfuckers East Coast, motherfucker (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 9-5, motherfuckers Get money, motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need Get live, motherfuckers 9-5, motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers As we proceeeeeeed to give you what you need… 9-5