Ether Songtext
von Nas

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)

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