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Artist: The Lady of Rage 
Album:  Necessary Rougness/Gridlock'd Soundtrack
Song:   Sho Shot  
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash


Uh-huh, right back at cha 
Uh-huh, The Lady of, The Lady of Rage 
Still remain the undisputed 
Ahh, still hit MC's like ("hoo-yu-ken" *Street Fighter sound, from Afro

Uh, I begin like this; with the wicked ass flow 
Somethin for you wack MC's to think about y'know (you what?) 
You better be on point (they what?), ya better be on deck 
You better be strapped and buckled down cause I'ma wreck 
*tires squeel, car crashes and glass breaks* like vehicles 
I pop suckers like sickle 
I tickle your fancy like Nancy and Wil-son get ill son 
rock it from Farnville, the Tilden Projects (hah) 
Concealed when I wreck 
So hey, step like stairs, or prepare for the levitate (to what?) 
to mount up on that ass like Warren G the Regulator 
I won't hesitate to put a sucker on his back (uh-uh) 
I don't hesitate to take a sucker out like that (uh-uh) 
I close my eyes and dig deep into myself 
Come up with the shit that's hittin harder than belts 
cause I'm spankin, fakin MC's 
off the batboard smack another hit from the back door 


It's that Sho Shot shit I release 
MC's from the West and the East get a motherfuckin piece 
Cause it, ain't where ya from it's, where's ya gat 
And the lyrical attack is where my ammo is at 

(repeat 2X) 

Now they call me Rage cause I rush and come down like a hammer 
Live rhythm get driven by vocal vehicular grammar 
Untouched, the walls come crumbling down 
You get clutched, in my clutches fifty feet from the ground 
Fatally feminine, poisonous enought to extinct 
cities of war fled the valley, so all of Cali sink 
I come stompin like Snoop, hit the N-Y next 
I ain't puffin up that shit between the East and the West 
I use my, hip-hop precision, perfectly put to use it's 
metaphoric phrases, spittin like deuce deuces 
Continuous and strenuous, crafty and shady 
Brothers notice me like Jodeci, now Forever They Lady 
I puts it to ya like this, you can despite me, dislike me 
I makes money like Spike Lee 
You either wanna be me or be just like me 
I'm nasty, nice-ty, no sheisty 
Ahh, so cold I'm icy, hah, so throw them dice G 

*chorus* (repeat 2X) 

Now I speak with expertise, and any heffer won't beef (moo) 
I be that A-1 Sauce, on your lips like floss 
I eat suckers as my entree, Rage got da bombay 
I gets total wreck and I ain't, playin wit a full deck 
it's just this, ace in your face, kicks from Earth to outer space 
Gimme space room to breath, roll up my sleeves just to breeze 
Blowin up the spot like infrared dots on your knot 
your knoggin, lyrical murderer a Rockin Robin 
I be dishin out that puddin, all you suckers pussyfootin 
be actin, but I ain't got time for theatrics 
My crews be crushin, shitty MC's 
I be flushin down the commode as I explode cock back and reload 
Right the beat until they say WHOA 
Then they tell me, "Momma don't hurt me no mo'!" 
I'm strictly bout them skills on the reala 
Strictly bout this motherfuckin MC cold killa, illa 

*chorus* (repeat 4X) 

It's that Sho Shot Sho Shot Sho Shot 
Sho Shot Sho Shot 
It's that Sho Shot Sho SHot Sho Shot 
That Sho Shot Sho Shot sheeeeit 
It's that Sho Shot Sho Shot sheeeeit 
That Sho Shot, sheeeeit, sheeeeit 
That Sho Shot Sho Shot sheeeeit 
That Sho Shot Sho Shot sheeeeit 

Uhh, the heavyweight undisputed, still hit MC's like 
("Hoo-yu-ken!") break it down now 
Lyrical murderer, hit MC's like what? 
("Hoo-yu-ken!") c'mon now 
Ain't a damn thing changed 
I still remain, the ill, reputed 
And just in case y'all forgot or, just didn't know 
I hit MC's like ("Hoo-yu-ken!") break it down now