Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You sound a bitch, bitch
the fuck up!
When your fans your haters
You
Fuckin' weird

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

Rihanna just hit me on a
night I left hickeys on her neck
Wait, you just dissed me? I'm
Insult me in a line, me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I to call 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 yourself after a damn gun and have a
The giant's woke, open, undeniable
Supplyin' smoke, got the fire
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one to Interscope and you're Swayze
Your reply got the yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die see who can out-petty who
With your corny ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm still you
By 29, I had albums that had blew
Now let's about somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' mole
Now I'ma make a out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome to my bone marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you ain't a bow and
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 cereal or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or
'Cause I'm takin' a in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, was three albums ago
What do you Oops
Know your before you come at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, Yeah, I had enough money in '02
To it in front of you, ho
Younger me? No, you're the 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 10-year-old's
Got more fans you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent your day
Shootin' a video just to dig your own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You ain't made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to blow
Kelly, they'll be putting your
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

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

Lethal
Go to sleep six deep, I'll give you a B for the effort
But if I was
You'd look up to me, and for the
You would suck a dick to be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my
Give your to be as solidified
mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo 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
He'll to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll 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 around it like a sombrero, we can all see
fuckin' salty
'Cause Young balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You dress better, I rap
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 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 else want it? — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in these coffins as as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
But this idiot's boss pops pills and tells him he's got
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day admits
That he put the hit out got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And still usin' that mothafuckin'
So talk about it (let's talk about it)

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

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