Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You sound like a bitch,
the fuck up!
When your become your haters
You
Fuckin' beard's

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' weird
We this once
You yellin' at the mic, your weird
Why you at the mic? (Illa)

Rihanna just hit me on a
Last night I left hickeys on her
Wait, you dissed me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart
Was watchin' 8 Mile on my
I forgot to call you back
Here's that for your daughter, I wrote it on a Starter cap

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna name yourself after a damn gun and a man-bun?
The giant's woke, open, undeniable
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one to Interscope and you're Swayze
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die let's see who can who
your corny lines ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm still you
By 29, I had three that had blew
Now talk about somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin'
But you're a fuckin' hill
Now make a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you ain't a bow and
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only you hold still (hold up)
Are you cereal or oatmeal?
What the in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your last four sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, was three albums ago
What do you know?
Know your facts before you come at me, goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, Yeah, I had enough money in '02
To it in front of you, ho
Younger me? No, the wack me, it's funny but so true
I'd be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old you

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole page with a rage
Got fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat
You ain't never made a list to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last sayin' Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

My biggest flops are your greatest
The game's again and ain't nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay this bitch I, mwah, Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some prick usin' my for clickbait
In a of bliss 'cause I said his goddamn name
Now I cock back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's moment
is it, as big as you're gonna get, so enjoy it
Had to you a career to destroy it

Lethal
Go to sleep six feet deep, I'll you a B for the effort
But if I was
You'd up to me, and for the record
You would suck a dick to fuckin' be me for a
Lick a to get on my channel
Give life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is like when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this tatted-up rapper
How the fuck can him and I
have to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll give him my
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' have to in my shadow
Exhausting, off on my offspring
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You around it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're salty
'Cause Young Gerald's inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, your leather
You better, I rap better
That a death threat or a love
white toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I just don't like you,
for dissing me
Now I had an on the mic to write "Not Alike"
But really, I don't care who's in the
But losin' the fight you picked

Who else want it? Kells — attempt fails! — L's!
Fuckin' nails in coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
But idiot's boss pops pills and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a the day Diddy admits
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And still usin' that Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's about it)

I'm of your mumble rap mouth
to get the cock up out it
Before we can even talk about it (talk it)
I'm sick of your hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the mirror and
you're Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
Don't mean you are, and you're not it
So just leave my in your mouth and keep my daughter out it

You fuckin'... oh
And I'm just playin',
You I love you