Luyện nghe bài hát Ether

("Fuck Jay-Z")
What's up niggas, hey yo, I know you talking 'bout me dog
You,
("Fuck Jay-Z")
You been on my dick nigga, you my style, nigga
("Fuck Jay-Z")

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

Brace yourself for the main
Y'all waiting
It's like an AIDS test, what's the
Not positive, who's the Pac, Nas and Big
Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out,
I embrace y'all napalm
up, no guts, left chest, face gone
How could Nas be
Semi-autos at cartilage
Burner at the side of your dome, come outta my
I got this, since '9-1
I am the truest, name a rapper I ain't influenced
Gave chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas
With Hawaiin Sophie fame, kept my name in his
it

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

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

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

I've been fucked over, left for dead, 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 (uh)
Talk about me, behind my back but in my face
Y'all some "well wishers," acting, envy hiding snakes
With your hands out for my money, man, how can I take?
When streets keep calling, heard it when I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted
Started cocking up my weapon, slowly up this ammo
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can
This for dolo and it's manuscript, just sound
KRS already made an album called Blueprint
First, ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than Big
Dick sucking lips, whyn't you let the late, great veteran

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

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

Y'all niggas deal emotions like 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 with women
you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?
Well life is hard, hug me, don't me
Or make records to disrespect me, blatant or
In '88 you was getting through your building
Calling my crib and I ain't even you my numbers
All I did was you a style for you to run with
Smiling in my face, glad to break bread the god
Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no cars
No jail Jigga, no pies, no case
Just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with Chase
You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a
I still whip ass, you thirty-six in a karate class
You Tae-bo hoe, to work it out, you tryna' get brolic?
Ask me if I'm trying to knowledge
Nah, I'm trying to kick the shit you to learn though
That ether, shit that make your soul burn slow
Is he Dame Diddy, Dame or Dame Dummy?
Oh, I get it, you and he's Puffy
Rockafeller died of AIDS, was the end of his chapter
And that's the guy y'all 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 from my glock, fellas
Foxy got you hot 'cause you your face in her puss
What you think, you getting now 'cause of your looks?
please
You no mustache having, with whiskers a rat
Compared to you wack
And your man stabbed Un and made you take the
You ass, from Jaz to hanging with Caine, to Herb, to Big
And, Eminem you on your own shit
You a dick-riding fagot, you the attention
Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Simmons
Ha, R-O-C get gunned up and clapped
J.J. Evans get up and clapped quick
Your whole record label gunned up and clapped quick
Shaun Carter to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz
So little shorty's getting gunned up and quick
How much of Biggie's rhymes is goin' come out your fat
to be on every last one of my classics
You pop shit, apologize, nigga, ask Kiss