Luyện nghe bài hát Ether II

Fuck
up niggas, ay yo
I know you ain't talkin' me dog
You, what? Jay-Z
You on my dick nigga
You my style, nigga
Jay-Z"

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

Brace for the main event
impatiently waitin'
It's an AIDS test, what's the results?
Not positive, who's the Pac, Nas and Big

Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out,
I y'all with napalm
Blows up, no guts, chest, face gone
How could Nas be
Semi-autos at cartilage

Burner at the side of your dome, come my throne
I got this, locked since
I am the truest, a rapper that I ain't influenced
y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas
With Hawaiian' fame, kept my name in his music, check it

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

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 soul like ether
(Will)
you the king you know 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 I'd be gone, stiff and rotten
Y'all piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave
Talk about me, behind my back but in my face

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

Started cockin' up my weapon, slowly loadin' up this
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can
This for and it's manuscript, just sound stupid
When KRS already made an album Blueprint

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

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

Y'all deal with emotions like bitches
What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my
You traded your soul for
My child, I've you grow up to be famous

And now I smile like a dad, watchin' his only son that made it
You seem to be only concerned with dissin'
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you
Well, is hard, hug me, don't reject me

Or make records to me, blatant or indirectly
In '88 you was gettin' through your buildin'
Callin' my crib and I ain't even you my numbers
All I did was gave you a style for you to run

in my face, glad to break bread with the God
Wearin' Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no
No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no
Just Hawaiian shirts, hangin' with little

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

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

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

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

Negro please, you no havin', with whiskers like a rat
to Beans you wack
And your man Un and made you take the blame
You ass, went Jaz to hangin' with Caine, to Herb, to Big

And, Eminem murdered you on own shit
You a faggot, you love the attention
Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Simmons
Ha, R O C get up and clapped quick

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

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