Luyện nghe bài hát Ether II

Fuck
up niggas, ay yo
I know you talkin' 'bout me dog
You, Fuck Jay-Z
You on my dick nigga
You love my style,
Jay-Z"

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

yourself for the main event
Y'all impatiently
It's like an AIDS test, what's the
Not positive, who's the Pac, Nas and Big

no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy
I embrace y'all with
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
Gave y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the
Hawaiian' Sophie fame, kept my name in his music, check it

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

Ay yo, pass me the
Pour my ashes out on niggas man
(No doubt)
Ay, y'all faggots, y'all
And kiss the ring

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

I've been fucked over, left for dead, and forgotten
Luck ran out, hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten
Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, on my grave
Talk me, laugh behind my back but in my face

Y'all "Well wishers", friendly actin', envy hidin' snakes
With your out for my money, man, how much can I take?
When these streets keep callin', heard it I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella wanted beef

Started up my weapon, slowly loadin' up this ammo
To it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can handle
This for dolo and manuscript, just sound stupid
KRS already made an album called Blueprint

First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the
To say you better than Big
Dick suckin' lips, won't you let the late, great live
(I not lose)
"God's son" across the belly, I prove you lost
The king is back, where my at?
(Ill Will)
Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it

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

Y'all niggas deal emotions like bitches
What's sad is I love you 'cause my brother
You traded soul for riches
My child, I've watched you grow up to be

And now I smile a proud dad, watchin' his only son that made it
You seem to be only concerned with women
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they you ugly?
Well, life is hard, hug me, reject me

Or make records to disrespect me, or indirectly
In '88 you was gettin' chased your buildin'
Callin' my crib and I ain't give you my numbers
All I did was gave you a for you to run with

Smilin' in my face, to break bread with the God
Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no cars
No bars Jigga, no pies, no case
Just Hawaiian shirts, with little Chase

You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a
I still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a class
You Tae-bo hoe, tryna' it out, you tryna' get brolic?
Ask me if I'm tryna' knowledge

Nah, I'm tryna' kick the shit you to learn though
That ether, that shit that make your soul slow
Is he Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy?
Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's

Rockafeller of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter
And that's the guy y'all chose to your company after?
Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all fellas
And now y'all try to take my spot,

Philly's hot rock fellas, put you in a dry spot,
In a pine box nine shots from my glock, fellas
Foxy got you hot 'cause you kept face in her puss
What you think, you gettin' girls now 'cause of looks?

Negro please, you no mustache havin', with whiskers 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, murdered you on your own shit
You a faggot, you love the attention
Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Simmons
Ha, R O C get gunned up and quick

J.J. Evans get up and clapped quick
Your whole damn record label gunned up and quick
Shaun to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz dick
So little shorty's gunned up and clapped quick

How much of Biggie's rhymes is gon' out your fat lips?
to be on every last one of my classics
You pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask