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						"Ether"
 [gunshots]
 
 [Nas talking]
 ("Fuck Jay-Z")
 What's up niggas, ay yo, I know you ain't talkin 'bout me dog
 You, what?
 ("Fuck Jay-Z")
 You been on my dick nigga, you love my style, nigga
 ("Fuck Jay-Z")
 
 [Chorus]
 (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 waitin
 It's like an AIDS test, what's the results?
 Not positive, who's the best? Pac, Nas and Big
 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 cartilege
 Burner at the side of your dome, come outta my throne
 I got this, locked since '9-1
 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 Hawaiin Sophie fame, kept my name in his music
 Check it
 
 [Chorus]
 
 [talking]
 Ay yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these niggas man (no doubt)
 Ay, y'all faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the fuckin ring
 
 [Chorus]
 
 I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and fogotten
 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 (uh)
 Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my face
 Y'all some "well wishers," friendly actin, envy hidin snakes
 With your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take?
 When these streets keep callin, heard it when I was sleep
 That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beef
 Started cockin up my weapon, slowly loadin up this ammo
 To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can handle
 This for dolo and it's manuscript, just sound stupid
 When KRS already made an album called Blueprint
 First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than Big
 Dick suckin lips, whyn't you let the late, great veteran live
 
 [talking]
 (I...will...not...lose)
 "God's son" across the belly, I prove you lost already
 The king is back, where my crown at?
 (Ill...will) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it niggas
 
 [Chorus]
 
 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 dissin women
 Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?
 Well life is hard, hug me, don't reject me
 Or make records to disrespect me, blatent or indirectly
 In '88 you was gettin chased through your buildin
 Callin my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers
 All I did was gave you a style for you to run with
 Smilin in my face, glad to break bread with the god
 Wearin Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no cars
 No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no case
 Just Hawaiian shirts, hangin with little Chase
 You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a Stan
 I still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate class
 You Tae-bo hoe, 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
 Rockafeller 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?
 Philly's hot rock 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 gettin girls now 'cause of your looks?
 Ne-gro please
 You no mustache havin, with whiskers like a rat
 Compared to Beans you wack
 And your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame
 You ass, went from Jaz to hangin with Caine, to Herb, to Big
 And, Eminem murdered you on your own shit
 You a dick-ridin 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 shorty's gettin gunned up and clapped quick
 How much of Biggie's rhymes is gon' come out your fat lips?
 Wanted to be on every last one of my classics
 You pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss
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