(I)
F k 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
Burner at the side of your dome
Come out of 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 Hawaiian Sophie fame,
kept my name in his music
(I)
F k 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 mothaf kin' ring!
(I)
F k 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 f ked 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, s t
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 e plode it on a
camel and his soldiers
I can handle this for dolo and
his manuscript just sound stupid
When KRS already made an
album called Blueprint
First Biggie's your man, then
you got the nerve to say
That you better than
BIG, d k sucking lips
Why don't you let the
late, great veteran live?
God's son across the belly,
I prove you lost already
The king is back, where my crown at
Ill Will rest in peace,
let's do it niggas
(I)
F k 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
thirty si 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 s t
you need to learn though
That ether, that s t 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 bo with nine
shots from my Glock, fellas
Fo y got you hot, cause you
kept your face in her puss
What you think, you getting
girls now cause of your looks
Ne gro 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 s t
You a d k 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 shorty's getting
gunned up and clapped quick
How much of Biggie's rhymes is
gonna come out your fat lips?
Wanted to be on every
last one of my classics
You pop shit, apologize,
nigga, just ask Kiss
