Quote:
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Originally Posted by fightnight
Nas - Ether Not only does he go off, but he totally destroys Jay Z, this coming from someone who loves both of them. I just think Nas definitely finished off this battle.
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 fagg*t, 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
Shaun 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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^ while ether was admittedly hot, rockefeller did not die of aids... as aids was only discovered about 43years after his death! one of the thins that always bothered me about that song... not to mention the whole, you're a misogynist/have issues with ladies... but then he himself calls women hoes... i suppose it shows the hypocrisy of us all, lol.
jay-z
the bounce
blueprint 2
[quote]
Rumor has it "The Blueprint" classic
Couldn't even be stopped by Bin Laden
So September 11th marks the era forever
of a revolutionary Jay Guevero
Now it's a whole museum of, Hov' MCers
Everybody dupin the flow, you see 'em
Everybody loopin up soul
It's like you tryin to make "The Blueprint 2" before Hov'
Shout out to Just Bleezy and, Kan-yeezy
See how we adjusted the game so easy
Chicks barely dancin, glancin every chance they get
Like - oh shit, he's so handsome
Still in demand in the longest run standin
Kidnap rap seven years, no ransom
Can't one nigga get it back no rap
Young Hov's goin to Canton, I'm now eligible
[chorus]
Point out the bounce - and show you how to get this dough in
large amounts 'til it's hard to count
Point out the bounce - I turn a 8 to an ounce
turn a whole key to the R.O.C.
Point out the bounce - Timbo the king nigga
Uhh, yeah, uhh
Point out the bounce - jeah, Young Hov' the king nigga
[verse]
For those that think Hov' fingers bling bling'n
Either haven't heard the album or they don't know english
They only know what the single is, and singled that out
to be the meaning of what he's about
And bein I'm about my business, not minglin much
runnin my mouth, that shit kept lingerin
But no dummy, that's the shit I'm sprinklin
The album width to keep the registers ringin
In real life, I'm much more distinguished
I'm like a bloke from London, England
Jeah, you jinglin baby
See I go right back and I bring 'em in baby
Business mind of a Ross Perot, but never lost my soul
Crossed the line, I bought pop across the row
Then I walk through the hood, where they up to no good
Slangin them O's like a real O.G. should
Oh, he's good, no he would never sell out he's so young
[chorus]