Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' beard
We doin' once
You yellin' at the mic, beard's weird
Why you yell at the (Illa)

just hit me on a text
Last night I hickeys on her neck
Wait, you just me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, compliment me on the
Damn, I'm really sorry you me to have a heart attack
Was 8 Mile on my NordicTrack
Realized I forgot to you back
Here's autograph for your daughter, I wrote it on a Starter cap

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna name after a damn gun and have 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 call to and you're Swayze
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die see who can out-petty 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 albums that had
Now let's talk about I don't really do

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

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

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

My biggest flops are greatest hits
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 Labor Day to (the fuck?)
rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for clickbait
In a state of bliss 'cause I said his name
Now I gotta back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's moment
This is it, as big as you're gonna get, so it
Had to you a career to destroy it

injection
Go to six feet deep, I'll give you a B for the effort
But if I was
You'd up to me, and for the record
You suck a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my
Give your life to be as
This shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of

Had of this tatted-up mumble rapper
How the can him and I battle?
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
I'll him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' to live in my shadow
Exhausting, off on my offspring
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance around it a sombrero, we can all see
You're salty
'Cause Young Gerald's balls-deep of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You dress better, I rap
That a death threat or a letter?
Little white
Thinks it's over a pic, I just don't you, prick
for dissing me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I don't care in the right
But losin' the fight you picked

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

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

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