Really of almost all the beefs we have seen almost all of then been settled 50 beat ja, em beat benzino, and like that and so on......but the only one that i kno hasnt been settled was the jay-z and nas who do yall think really won this beef??? and o let yall kno the verses here they are below......

"Ether"

[gunshots]

[Nas talking]
("Fuck Jay-Z")
What's up niggas, ay yo, I know you ain't talkin '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 waitin
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 cartilege
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 Hawaiin 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 fuckin ring

[Chorus]

I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and fogotten
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 actin, envy hidin snakes
With your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take?
When these streets keep callin, heard it when I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beef
Started cockin up my weapon, slowly loadin 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 suckin lips, whyn't 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, 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 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 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

vs.

"Takeover"

[Jay-Z]
R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
Memphis Bleek, we runnin this rap shit
B. Mac, we runnin this rap shit
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit

The takeover, the break's over nigga
God MC, me, Jay-Hova
Hey lil' soldier you ain't ready for war
R.O.C. too strong for y'all
It's like bringin a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test
Your chest in the line of fire witcha thin-ass vest
You bringin them Boyz II Men, HOW them boys gon' win?
This is grown man B.I., get you rolled in the triage(?)
Beatch - your reach ain't long enough, dunny
Your peeps ain't strong enough, fucka
Roc-A-Fella is the army, better yet the navy
Niggaz'll kidnap your babies, spit at your lady
We bring - knife to fistfight, kill your drama
Uh, we kill you motherfuckin ants with a sledgehammer
Don't let me do it to you dunny cause I overdo it
So you won't confuse it with just rap music

R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit
"Watch out!! We run New York" -> [KRS-One]

I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews
You little FUCK, I've got money stacks bigger than you
When I was pushin weight, back in eighty-eight
you was a ballerina I got your pictures I seen ya
Then you dropped "Shook Ones," switch your demeanor
Well - we don't believe you, you need more people
Roc-A-Fella, students of the game, we passed the classes
Nobody could read you dudes like we do
Don't let 'em gas you like Jigga is ass and won't clap you
Trust me on this one - I'll detach you
Mind from spirit, body from soul
They'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole
No, you're not on my level get your brakes tweaked
I sold what ya whole album sold in my first week
You guys don't want it with Hov'
Ask Nas, he don't want it with Hov', nooooo!

R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
B. Sigel, we runnin this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Freeway, we run this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit
"Watch out!! We run New York" -> [KRS-One]

I know you missin all the - FAAAAAAAME!
But along with celebrity comes bout seventy shots to your brain
Nigga; you a - LAAAAAAAME!
Youse the fag 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 fuckin 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
Nigga; 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 nigga you was gettin fucked 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 nigga? I could divide
That's one every let's say two, two of them shits was due
One was - NAHHH, the other was "Illmatic"
That's a one hot album every ten year average
And that's so - LAAAAAAAME! Nigga switch up your flow
Your shit is garbage, but you try and kick knowledge?
(Get the fuck outta here) You niggaz 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

R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit
"Watch out!! We run New York" -> [KRS-One]

A wise man told me don't argue with fools
Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who
So stop with that childish shit, nigga I'm grown
Please leave it alone - don't throw rocks at the throne
Do not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you
I don't know why your advisors ain't forewarn you
Please, not Jay, he's, not for play
I don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin and gimmicks
I will end it, all that yappin be finished
You are not deep, you made your bed now sleep
Don't make me expose to them folks that don't know you
Nigga I know you well, all the stolen jew-els
Twinkletoes you breakin my heart
You can't fuck with me - go play somewhere, I'm busy
And all you other cats throwin shots at Jigga
You only get half a bar - fuck y'all niggaz

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