Nas - Ether (9th Wonder Remix) lyrics

[Produced by 9th Wonder] [Intro] f** Jay Z! (What's up n***as, ayo, I know you ain't talking 'bout me, dog, you? what?) f** Jay Z! (You been on my dick n***a, you love my style, n***a) f** Jay Z! [Hook] (I) f** 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 [Verse 1] Brace yourself for the main event, y'all impatiently waiting It's like an AIDS test – what's the result? 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, blowed 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 [Hook] [Verse 2] I've been f**ed 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, sh** 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 co*k-a-Fella Records wanted beef Started co*king 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 man*script 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 B.I.G, dick-s**ing lips Why don't you let the late, great veteran live [Interlude] 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 rest in peace, let's do it n***as [Hook] [Verse 3] Y'all n***as deal with emotions like b**hes, 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 Calling my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers All I did was gave 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 p**y, a Stan I still whip your a**, you thirty-six in a karate cla** 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 sh** you need to learn though That ether, that sh** 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 Ne-gro please, you no mustache having With whiskers like a rat, compared to Beans you wack And your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame You a**, went from Jaz to hanging with Kane, to Irv, to B.I.G And Eminem murdered you on your own sh** You a dick-riding f*ggot, you love the attention Queens n***as run you n***as, ask Russell Simmons, ha [Outro] 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 cla**ics You pop sh**, apologize, n***a, just ask Kiss