Luyện nghe bài hát Ether II

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

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

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

Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out,
I embrace with napalm
up, no guts, left chest, face gone
How Nas be garbage?
Semi-autos at your

Burner at the of your dome, come outta my throne
I got this, since '9-1
I am the truest, name a rapper I ain't influenced
Gave y'all but now I keep my eyes on the Judas
Hawaiian' Sophie fame, kept my name in his music, check it

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

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

(I)
Fuck with your soul like
(Will)
Teach you the you know you
(Not)
"God's son", across the
(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
just 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", actin', envy hidin' snakes
With hands out for my money, man, how much can I take?
When these streets callin', heard it when I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted

Started cockin' up my weapon, slowly loadin' up ammo
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, ya man, then you got the nerve
To say that you better Big
Dick suckin' lips, 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 Will in peace, let's do it niggas

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

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

And now I smile like a proud dad, watchin' his only son that it
You seem to be only concerned dissin' women
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they you ugly?
Well, life is hard, hug me, don't me

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

Smilin' in my face, glad to break bread the God
Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no cars
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 your ass, you thirty-six in a karate class
You Tae-bo hoe, work it out, you tryna' get brolic?
Ask me if I'm kick knowledge

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

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

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

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

And, Eminem murdered you on your own
You a dick-ridin' faggot, you the attention
Queens run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons
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, damn you on Jaz
So little shorty's gettin' gunned up and 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