Luyện nghe bài hát Ether

("Fuck Jay-Z")
What's up niggas, hey yo, I know you ain't 'bout me dog
You,
("Fuck Jay-Z")
You been on my dick nigga, you my style, nigga
("Fuck Jay-Z")

(I) Fuck with your like ether
(Will) Teach you the king you you
(Not) "God's son" the belly
(Lose) I prove you already

Brace yourself for the main
Y'all impatiently
It's like an AIDS test, what's the
Not positive, the best? Pac, Nas and Big
no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy
I embrace y'all napalm
Blows up, no guts, left chest, gone
How Nas be garbage?
Semi-autos at your
Burner at the side of your dome, come my throne
I got this, locked since
I am the truest, name a rapper I ain't influenced
y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas
With Sophie fame, kept my name in his music
it

(I) with your soul like ether
(Will) you the king you know you
(Not) "God's son" the belly
(Lose) I prove you already

Hey yo, pass me the weed, my ashes out on these niggas man (no doubt)
Hey , y'all fagots, y'all kneel and the fuckin ring

(I) Fuck with your soul like
(Will) Teach you the king you you
(Not) "God's son" the belly
(Lose) I you lost already

I've fucked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten
Luck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and
Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, on my grave (uh)
Talk about me, laugh behind my but in my face
Y'all "well wishers," friendly acting, envy hiding snakes
With your hands out for my money, man, how much can I
these streets keep calling, heard it when I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted
Started cocking up my weapon, slowly loading up this
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can
This for dolo and it's manuscript, sound stupid
KRS already made an album called Blueprint
First, Biggie's ya man, you got the nerve to say that you better than Big
Dick sucking lips, whyn't you let the late, veteran live

(I, will, not, lose)
"God's son" the belly, I prove you lost already
The king is back, where my at?
(I'll, will) Ill Will in peace, let's do it niggas

(I) Fuck your soul like ether
(Will) Teach you the you know you
(Not) "God's son" across the
(Lose) I prove you already

Y'all niggas deal with emotions bitches
What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my
You traded soul for riches
My child, I've watched you grow up to be
And now I smile like a proud dad, watching his son that made it
You seem to be only concerned dissing women
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, called you ugly?
Well life is hard, hug me, don't me
Or make records to disrespect me, or indirectly
In '88 you was getting chased your building
Calling my crib and I ain't give you my numbers
All I did was you a style for you to run with
Smiling in my face, glad to bread with the god
Wearing Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no
No bars Jigga, no pies, no case
Just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with little
You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a
I still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate
You hoe, trying to work it out, you tryna' get brolic?
Ask me if I'm trying to kick
Nah, I'm trying to the shit you need to learn though
That ether, that shit make your soul burn slow
Is he Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy?
Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's
Rockafeller died of AIDS, was the end of his chapter
And the guy y'all chose to name your company after?
Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all fellas
And now y'all try to take my spot,
Philly's hot fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellas
In a pine box with nine shots from my glock,
Foxy got you hot 'cause you kept your in her puss
What you think, you getting girls now 'cause of looks?
please
You no having, with whiskers like a rat
Compared to you wack
And your man stabbed Un and made you the blame
You ass, went from Jaz to with Caine, to Herb, to Big
And, Eminem you on your own shit
You a fagot, you love the attention
Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell
Ha, R-O-C get gunned up and quick
J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped
whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quick
Shaun Carter to Jay-Z, you on Jaz dick
So little shorty's getting gunned up and clapped
How of Biggie's rhymes is goin' come out your fat lips?
to be on every last one of my classics
You pop shit, apologize, nigga, ask Kiss