Facts are highlighted in
purple;
Jokes in
red
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 Big
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 outta 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
Check it
[Chorus]
[talking]
Ay yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these nikkas man (no doubt)
Ay, y'all fakkits, y'all kneel and kiss the fukking ring
[Chorus]
I've been fukked 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, shyt on me, spit on my grave (uh)
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 Cockafella 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 it's manuscript, just sound stupid
When KRS already made an album called Blueprint
First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than Big
dikk sucking lips, why not you let the late, great veteran live
[talking]
(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) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it nikkas
[Chorus]
Y'all nikkas deal with emotions like bytches
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, watching 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 hard, hug me, don't reject me
Or make records to disrespect me, blatent 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*ssy, 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 shyt you need to learn though
That ether, that shyt 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
Rockefeller 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 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 ass, went from Jaz to hanging with Caine, to Herb, to Big
And, Eminem murdered you on your own shyt
You a dikk-riding fakkit, you love the attention
Queens nikkas run you nikkas, 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 dikk
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 shyt, apologize, nikka, just ask Kiss
I know you missin all the - FAAAAAAAME!
But along with celebrity comes bout seventy shots to your brain
nikka; you a - LAAAAAAAME!
Youse the faq model for Karl Kani/Esco ads
Went from, Nasty Nas to Esco's trash
Had a spark when you started but now you're just garbage
Fell from top ten to not mentioned at all
to your bodyguard's "Oochie Wally" verse better than yours
Matter fact you had the worst flow on the whole fukkin song
but I know - the sun don't shine, then son don't shine
That's why your - LAAAAAAAME! - career come to a end
There's only so long fake thugs can pretend
nikka; you ain't live it you witnessed it from your folks pad
You scribbled in your notepad and created your life
I showed you your first tec on tour with Large Professor
(Me, that's who!) Then I heard your album bout your tec on your dresser
So yeah I sampled your voice, you was usin it wrong
You made it a hot line, I made it a hot song
And you ain't get a corn nikka you was gettin fukked and
I know who I paid God, Serchlite Publishing
Use your - BRAAAAAAAIN! You said you been in this ten
I've been in it five - smarten up Nas
Four albums in ten years nikka? I could divide
That's one every let's say two, two of them shyts was due
One was - NAHHH, the other was "Illmatic"
That's a one hot album every ten year average
And that's so - LAAAAAAAME! nikka switch up your flow
Your shyt is garbage, but you try and kick knowledge?
(Get the fukk outta here) You nikkaz gon' learn to respect the king
Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen
Because you know who (who) did you know what (what)
with you know who (yeah) but just keep that between me and you for now
Y'all from a far threw thoughts my way
What you thought, I would not have nothin' to say? Nope
Y'all fell into the booby trap
I set the trap just to see dude react, an' now
An' now you'se can't leave
You opened the door, God, I'm at you annually
An' I'm sorry Miss Rosie Perez
I call a spade a spade, it just is what it is
But you can't give cred to anythin' dude says
Same dude to give you ice an' you owe him some head
Shorty, it's time to wake up the dead
You sound a little naive in them articles that I read
H.O.V.A.
The blueprint 2, baby, on the way
H.O.V.A.
I got my mojo back, baby, oh, behave
H.O.V.A.
The blueprint 2, baby, on the way
H.O.V.A.
I got my mojo back, baby, oh, behave
Can't y'all see that he's fake? The rap version of TD Jakes
Prophesizin' on your CDs an' tapes
Won't break you a crumb of the little bit that he makes
An' this is with whom you want to place your faith?
I put dollars on mine, ask Columbine
When the Twin Towers dropped, I was the first in line
Donatin' proceeds off every ticket sold
When I was out on the road, that's how you judge Hov, no?
Ain't I supposed to be absorbed myself?
Every time there's a tragedy, I'm the first one to help
They call me this misogynist, but they don't call me the dude
To take his dollars to give gifts at the projects
These dudes is all politics, depositin' checks
They put in they pocket, all you get in return is a lotta lip
An' y'all buy the shyt, caught up in the hype
'Cause the nikka wear a coofie, it don't mean that he bright
'Cause you don't understand him, it don't mean that he nice
It just means you don't understand all the bullshyt that he write
Is it 'Oochie Wally Wally' or is it 'One Mic'?
Is it 'Black Girl Lost' or shorty owe you for ice?
I've been real all my life, they confuse it with conceit
Since I will not lose, they try to help him cheat
But I will not lose, for even in defeat
There's a valuable lesson learned, so it evens it up for me
When the grass is cut, the snakes will show
I gotta thank the little homie Nas for that though
Savin' me the hassle of speakin' to half of these a$$holes
An' I'm a let karma catch up to Jaz O, whoa
See I'm back before you had a chance to miss me
My mama can't save you this time, nikkas is history
Who you know flow vicious as me?
Yet so religiously, that's why they call me Hov
I get the spoils 'cause the victor is me
You're an actor, you're not who you're depicted to be
The street dreamin', all y'all nikkas livin' through me
I gave you life when nikkas was forgettin' you emcee
I'm a legend, you should take a picture with me
You should be happy to be in my presence, I should charge you a fee
I'm Big Dog, Glenn Rob, listen, God, you a flea
An' the little homey Jungle is a garden to me
What's the problem B? You not as hard as me
nikka hard as we, nikka, ROC, nikka
That's why they follow me
They feel my pain an' my agony, nikka
I won't rest till you on one knee
You want war then it's war's gonna be, nikka
Until you on one knee
You want war then it's war's gonna be, nikka
I got myself a gun
Brooklyn, stand up
I got myself a gun
But really, I dont need tha heat
Ya heart pump project kool-aid(ya sweet)
I aint gotta two-way you gays
This is not beef
This is rap hommie
I dont have a scratch on me
You feel Jay soft
Rip jay off
Damn I'm only worth over a hundred million
Look
I got beef with like a hundred children
nikkaz with pink suits
Tryin to get cute
You a little outta line hommie
Dont let the 9 hommie
Put ya out ya mind hommie
bytch keep tryin hommie
Kick yo little lies
I kick my real facts
Like u sneakin out tha back
At tha Source Soundlab(uh)
We wasnt chasin you
We had a tape and too
We came through to do our little one, two thang
It wasnt a rockafella come through thing
If it was on like that
Why would I come through Queens
Yo, ya'll Queens nikka know how I do
I got mo' shooters in Queens Bridge than u
nikkaz'll(nikkaz will) tie you up on the Colloseum roof
And open beer bottles off ya boy's chipped tooth
Look Here,
[Chorus:]
I got myself a gun,Uh Ohhhh!
Yea, I got myself a gun
[Verse 2:]
Listen
I'm tha J, tha A, to the fukk this broad
This nikka never sold asprin
How u escobar?
Had to buy you're chain back tha last time u got robbed
The nerve of this coward nikka....(Oh My God)
And all rap rumors are induendo
I bring them to you live
Lift up ya window
Let tha public begin to see your dirty laundry
Ya'll dont want me to continue(Oh!)
Super Ugly
[Jay-Z Laughing]
[Nas Voice:]
I dont give a fukk
All I really know is that yo hoe wants to be with me
She aint playin
Believe what I'm sayin
[Verse 3:]
Me and tha boy A.I. got more in Common than just ballin and rhymin
Get It?
More in Carmen
I came in ya Bentley backseat
Skeeted in Jeep
Left condoms in tha baby seat
Here nikka
Tha gloves is off
The love is done
Its whateva, wheneva, howeva
nikka "1"
And since you infatuated with sayin tha gay shyt
Yes u was kissin my dikk when u was kissin that bytch
Crazy bytch
You thought I was boning Ranette
You calling Carm' a hundred times I was boning her neck
You got a baby by that broad
You cant disown her yet
When does ya lies end?
When does the truth begin?
When does reality set it?
Or does it not matter
Gotta hurt that I'm ya baby mama's favorite rapper
And ask your current girl
She know whats up
Holla at a real nikka[/QUOTE]
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