Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

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

Rihanna just hit me on a
Last night I left on her neck
Wait, you just dissed me? I'm
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 you back
Here's that autograph for your daughter, I 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 you're
Your reply got the yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die see who can out-petty who
With your corny lines ("Slim, old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm outselling you
By 29, I had three that had blew
Now let's talk about I don't really do

Go in daughter's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' mole
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you ain't a bow and
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' (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 a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, that was albums ago
What do you Oops
Know your facts you come at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had enough in '02
To burn it in of you, ho
me? No, you're the wack 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 fans than 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 just to dig your own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You ain't never made a next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and Iggy ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be putting name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

My flops are your greatest hits
The game's mine and ain't nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay this bitch I, mwah, Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for
In a state of 'cause I said his goddamn name
Now I gotta back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's your
This is it, as big as gonna 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 up to me, and for the record
You would suck a dick to be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my
your life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun it's out of ammo?

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

Your red sweater, your leather
You better, I rap better
a death threat or a love letter?
Little toothpick
it's over a pic, I just don't like you, prick
Thanks for me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I don't care in the right
But you're losin' the you picked

Who else want it? Kells — attempt fails! — L's!
Fuckin' nails in these coffins as as Cottonelle
Killshot, I not fail, I'm with the Doc still
But this boss pops 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 sick of you wack
And still usin' that Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's talk it)

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

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