Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

You sound 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, your weird
Why you at the mic? (Illa)

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

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you name yourself after a damn gun and have a man-bun?
The giant's woke, eyes open,
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and Swayze
reply got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die let's see who can 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 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 make a out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the barrel to my bone marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the time you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

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

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole with a 10-year-old's rage
Got fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig your own
Got you at your own wake, I'm the 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 last sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

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

Lethal
Go to six feet deep, I'll give you a B for the effort
But if I was
look up to me, and for the record
You would a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
a ballsack 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 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' have to 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 fuckin'
'Cause Young Gerald's balls-deep of Halsey

Your red sweater, your leather
You better, I rap better
a death threat or a love letter?
Little white
Thinks it's over a pic, I just don't you, prick
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 else want it? Kells — fails! Budden — L's!
nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I not fail, I'm with the Doc still
But this idiot's boss pills and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy
That he put the hit out got Pac killed, ah!
I'm of you bein' wack
And still usin' that mothafuckin'
So let's about it (let's talk about it)

I'm of your mumble rap mouth
Need to get the up out it
Before we can talk about it (talk about 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 you are, and you're 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 know I you