Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You like a bitch, bitch
the fuck up!
When your fans become your
You
Fuckin' weird

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

Rihanna 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 sorry you want me to have a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 Mile on my
Realized I forgot to call you
Here's that autograph for your daughter, I wrote it on a cap
Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna name after a damn gun
And 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 to Interscope and you're 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 about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's daughter's stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' mole
Now I'ma make a out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, like 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, sprayin' (brrt)
Playin' dead, the only time you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the fuck's in the bowl, Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I reading material
...Dictionary...
"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
What do you know?
Know your facts before you 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 10-year-old's
Got more than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the okay so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a video just to dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
You ain't never made a next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you to really blow
Kelly, they'll be putting your
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
the last motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)
My biggest flops are your greatest
The game's mine and ain't nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a
Gotta up Labor Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some prick usin' my for clickbait
In a state of bliss 'cause I said his goddamn
Now I gotta back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this!

your moment
This is it, as big as gonna get, so enjoy it
Had to give you a to destroy it
Lethal
Go to sleep six feet deep, I'll give you a B for the
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 your to be as solidified
mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of ammo?
Had enough of this tatted-up rapper
How the fuck can him and I
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
give him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' have to 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
You're fuckin'
'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 like you, prick
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? fails! Budden—L's!
Fuckin' nails in these as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
But this idiot's 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 sick of mumble rap mouth
Need to get the up out it
Before we can even talk about it (talk it)
I'm sick of your blonde and earrings
'cause you look in the mirror and think
That Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
mean you are, and you're not about it
So leave my dick in your mouth and keep my daughter out it

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