"[2Pac talking] 
 (""Fuck Jay-Z"") 
 What's up niggas, ay yo, I know you ain't talking 'bout me dog 
 You, what? 
 (""Fuck Jay-Z"") 
 You been on my dick nigga, you love my style, nigga 
 (""Fuck Jay-Z"") 

 [Chorus] 
 (I) Fuck 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 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 niggas man (no doubt) 
 Ay, y'all faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the fucking ring 

 [Chorus] 

 I've been fucked 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, shit 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 
 Dick 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 niggas 

 [Chorus] 

 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, 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 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 
 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 shit 
 You a dick-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