| [00:05.44] |
（"Fuck Jay-Z"） |
| [00:06.25] |
What's up niggas, ay yo, I know you ain't talking 'bout me dog |
| [00:09.76] |
You, what? |
| [00:10.91] |
（"Fuck Jay-Z"） |
| [00:11.97] |
You been on my dick nigga, you love my style, nigga |
| [00:15.14] |
（"Fuck Jay-Z"） |
| [00:15.88] |
|
| [00:16.29] |
（I） Fuck with your soul like ether |
| [00:17.88] |
（Will） Teach you the king you know you |
| [00:19.08] |
（Not） "God's son" across the belly |
| [00:20.60] |
（Lose） I prove you lost already |
| [00:22.23] |
|
| [00:22.40] |
Brace yourself for the main event |
| [00:24.62] |
Y'all impatiently waiting |
| [00:25.51] |
It's like an AIDS test, what's the results? |
| [00:27.93] |
Not positive, who's the best? Pac, Nas and Big |
| [00:30.91] |
Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy |
| [00:34.67] |
I embrace y'all with napalm |
| [00:36.78] |
Blows up, no guts, left chest, face gone |
| [00:39.63] |
How could Nas be garbage? |
| [00:41.02] |
Semi-autos at your cartilage |
| [00:42.82] |
Burner at the side of your dome, come outta my throne |
| [00:45.71] |
I got this, locked since '9-1 |
| [00:48.30] |
I am the truest, name a rapper that I ain't influenced |
| [00:51.38] |
Gave y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas |
| [00:54.27] |
With Hawaiian Sophie fame, kept my name in his music |
| [00:57.36] |
Check it |
| [01:00.78] |
|
| [01:01.31] |
（I） Fuck with your soul like ether |
| [01:02.33] |
（Will） Teach you the king you know you |
| [01:03.83] |
（Not） "God's son" across the belly |
| [01:04.45] |
（Lose） I prove you lost already |
| [01:06.38] |
|
| [01:07.11] |
Ay yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these niggas man （no doubt） |
| [01:08.28] |
Ay, y'all faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the fucking ring |
| [01:10.06] |
|
| [01:10.25] |
（I） Fuck with your soul like ether |
| [01:11.19] |
（Will） Teach you the king you know you |
| [01:12.28] |
（Not） "God's son" across the belly |
| [01:13.74] |
（Lose） I prove you lost already |
| [01:14.69] |
|
| [01:15.42] |
I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten |
| [01:18.59] |
Luck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten |
| [01:21.25] |
Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave （uh） |
| [01:24.55] |
Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my face |
| [01:27.07] |
Y'all some "well wishers," friendly acting, envy hiding snakes |
| [01:29.92] |
With your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take? |
| [01:32.68] |
When these streets keep calling, heard it when I was sleep |
| [01:35.85] |
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beef |
| [01:38.57] |
Started cocking up my weapon, slowly loading up this ammo |
| [01:41.80] |
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can handle |
| [01:44.55] |
This for dolo and it's manuscript, just sound stupid |
| [01:47.68] |
When KRS already made an album called Blueprint |
| [01:50.71] |
First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than Big |
| [01:54.81] |
Dick sucking lips, why not you let the late, great veteran live |
| [01:58.36] |
|
| [01:58.73] |
（I...will...not...lose） |
| [02:01.39] |
"God's son" across the belly, I prove you lost already |
| [02:04.07] |
The king is back, where my crown at? |
| [02:06.60] |
（Ill...will） Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it niggas |
| [02:09.23] |
（I） Fuck with your soul like ether |
| [02:10.25] |
（Will） Teach you the king you know you |
| [02:11.66] |
（Not） "God's son" across the belly |
| [02:12.98] |
（Lose） I prove you lost already |
| [02:14.34] |
|
| [02:14.90] |
Y'all niggas deal with emotions like bitches |
| [02:17.26] |
What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother |
| [02:19.09] |
You traded your soul for riches |
| [02:20.72] |
My child, I've watched you grow up to be famous |
| [02:22.95] |
And now I smile like a proud dad, watching his only son that made it |
| [02:26.47] |
You seem to be only concerned with dissing women |
| [02:29.19] |
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly? |
| [02:32.45] |
Well life is hard, hug me, don't reject me |
| [02:34.91] |
Or make records to disrespect me, blatent or indirectly |
| [02:37.96] |
In '88 you was getting chased through your building |
| [02:40.78] |
Calling my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers |
| [02:43.84] |
All I did was gave you a style for you to run with |
| [02:46.96] |
Smiling in my face, glad to break bread with the god |
| [02:49.75] |
Wearing Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no cars |
| [02:52.62] |
No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no case |
| [02:55.73] |
Just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with little Chase |
| [02:58.79] |
You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a Stan |
| [03:01.93] |
I still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate class |
| [03:05.03] |
You Tae-bo hoe, tryna' work it out, you tryna' get brolic? |
| [03:08.77] |
Ask me if I'm tryna' kick knowledge |
| [03:10.38] |
Nah, I'm tryna' kick the shit you need to learn though |
| [03:13.57] |
That ether, that shit that make your soul burn slow |
| [03:16.51] |
Is he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy? |
| [03:19.10] |
Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's Puffy |
| [03:22.50] |
Rockefeller died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter |
| [03:25.46] |
And that's the guy y'all chose to name your company after? |
| [03:28.21] |
Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock fellas |
| [03:31.33] |
And now y'all try to take my spot, fellas? |
| [03:33.69] |
Philly's hot rock fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellas |
| [03:37.16] |
In a pine box with nine shots from my glock, fellas |
| [03:40.12] |
Foxy got you hot 'cause you kept your face in her puss |
| [03:42.97] |
What you think, you getting girls now 'cause of your looks? |
| [03:45.97] |
Ne-gro please |
| [03:47.64] |
You no mustache having, with whiskers like a rat |
| [03:50.65] |
Compared to Beans you wack |
| [03:51.87] |
And your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame |
| [03:54.63] |
You ass, went from Jaz to hanging with Caine, to Herb, to Big |
| [03:58.53] |
And, Eminem murdered you on your own shit |
| [04:00.93] |
You a dick-riding faggot, you love the attention |
| [04:03.84] |
Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons |
| [04:06.61] |
Ha, R-O-C get gunned up and clapped quick |
| [04:10.28] |
J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick |
| [04:12.73] |
Your whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quick |
| [04:15.69] |
Shawn Carter to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz dick |
| [04:19.01] |
So little shorty's getting gunned up and clapped quick |
| [04:21.78] |
How much of Biggie's rhymes is gonna come out your fat lips? |
| [04:24.53] |
Wanted to be on every last one of my classics |
| [04:27.57] |
You pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss |
| [04:30.86] |
|
