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Lyrics
Fuck Jay-Z What's up niggas? Ayo, I know you ain't talking 'bout me, dog, you? What? (Fuck Jay-Z) You been on my dick nigga, you love my style, nigga (fuck Jay-Z)
(I) fuck with your soul like ether (Will) teach you, the king, you know, you (Not) God's Son across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already
Brace yourself for the main event Y'all impatiently waiting It's like an AIDS test What's the results, not positive Who's the best, Pac, Nas and B.I.G.? Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy I embrace y'all with napalm
Blows up, no guts left, chest, face gone How could Nas be garbage? Semi-autos at your cartilage (uh) Burner at the side of your dome, come out of my throne I got this locked since '91, I am the truest Name a rapper that I ain't influenced Gave y'all chapters, but now I keep my eyes on the Judas With Hawaiian Sophie fame, kept my name in his music, check it
(I) fuck with your soul like ether (Will) teach you, the king, you know you (Not) God's Son across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already
Ayo, pass me the weed, put my ashes out on these niggas, man Ayo, you faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the motherfuckin' ring
(I) fuck with your soul like ether (Will) teach you, the King, you know, you (Not) God's Son across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already
I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten Luck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my face Y'all some well-wishers, friendly acting, envy hiding snakes With your hands out for my money, man How much can I take when these streets keep calling?
Heard it when I was sleep that this Gay-Z and Cock-a-Fella Records wanted beef Started cocking up my weapon, slowly loading up this ammo To explode it on a camel and his soldiers I can handle this for dolo and his manuscript just sound stupid When KRS already made a album called, "Blueprint" first Biggie's your man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than B.I.G., dick-sucking lips Won't you let the late, great veteran live (I will not)
About this track
"Ether" is a song by NAS from the album Stillmatic, released in 2001. The song was written by Nas, Ron Browz. It was produced by Ron Browz.
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NAS →Album
Produced by Ron Browz
God's son across the belly (lose) I prove you lost already (uh) The king is back, where my crown at? (Ill) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it niggas (Will)
(I) fuck with your soul like ether (Will) teach you, the king, you know you (Not) God's Son across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already
Y'all niggas deal with emotions like bitches What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother You traded your soul for riches My child, I've watched you grow up to be famous And now I smile like a proud dad watchin' his only son that made it You seem to be only concerned with dissing women Were you abused as a child? Scared to smile? They called you ugly? Well, life is harsh, hug me, don't reject me or make records to disrespect me, blatant or indirectly
In '88 you was getting chased through your building Callin' my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers All I did was give you a style for you to run with Smiling in my face, glad to break bread with the God Wearing Jaz chains, no Tecs, no cash, no cars No jail bars, Jigga, no pies, no case Just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with little Chase
You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a Stan I still whip your ass, you 36 in a karate class? You Tae-Bo ho, tryna work it out, you tryna get brolic? Ask me if I'm tryna kick knowledge? Nah, I'm tryna kick the shit you need to learn though That ether, that shit that make your soul burn slow Is he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy? Oh, I get it, you Biggie, and he's Puffy Rocafella died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter And that's the guy y'all chose to name your company after?
Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock fellas And now y'all try to take my spot, fellas? Feel these hot rocks fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellas In a pine box with nine shots from my Glock, fellas Foxy got you hot, 'cause you kept your face in her puss What you think, you getting girls now 'cause of your looks Negro, please, you no mustache having with whiskers like a rat, compared to Beans you whack And your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame You ass, went from Jaz to hanging with Kane, to Irv, to B.I.G. And Eminem murdered you on your own shit
You a dick-riding faggot, you love the attention Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons, ha R-O-C get gunned up and clapped quick J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick Your whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quick Shawn Carter to Jay-Z, damn, you on Jaz dick So little shawty's getting gunned up and clapped quick How much of Biggie's rhymes is gonna come out your fat lips, nigga? Wanted to be on every last one of my classics You pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
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