Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You like a bitch, bitch
Shut the up!
When your become your haters
You
beard's weird

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

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

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna yourself after a damn gun and have a man-bun?
The woke, eyes open, undeniable
Supplyin' smoke, got the fire
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and Swayze
Your reply got the yelling, "Woo!"
So you die let's see who can out-petty who
With your 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 let's talk about I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's stealin' food
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 a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a bill, sprayin' lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you hold (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, was three albums ago
do you know? Oops
Know facts before you come at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had enough in '02
To it in front of you, ho
me? No, you're the wack me, it's funny but so true
I'd rather be me than 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 I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you your whole day
Shootin' a video to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You never made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, be putting your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

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

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

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

Your red sweater, your black
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,
Thanks for me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I don't who's in the right
But you're the fight you picked

Who want it? Kells — attempt fails! Budden — 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 of you bein' wack
And usin' that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's talk it)

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

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