Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

You sound like a bitch,
the fuck up!
When your fans your haters
You
beard's weird

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

Rihanna hit me on a text
Last night I left hickeys on her
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 a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I forgot to 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 after a damn gun and have a man-bun?
The giant's woke, open, undeniable
Supplyin' smoke, got the fire
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to and you're Swayze
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So you die let's see who can out-petty who
your corny 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 somethin' I really do

Go in daughter's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' hill
Now make a mountain 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 only you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your last four sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
What do you Oops
Know your before you come at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had money in '02
To burn it in of you, ho
Younger me? No, the wack me, it's funny but so true
I'd be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old you

'Til I'm old age
Still can fill a whole page a 10-year-old's rage
Got more than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat
You ain't never a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you to really blow
Kelly, be putting your name
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker sayin' in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest flops are your hits
The game's mine again and nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta 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 cock back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's your
This is it, as big as you're get, so enjoy it
Had to give you a career to it

injection
Go to sleep six feet deep, I'll 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
Lick a ballsack to get on my
your 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 this tatted-up 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' to live in my shadow
Exhausting, letting off on my
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're fuckin'
Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, your leather
You better, I rap better
That a threat or a love letter?
Little 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 care in the right
But losin' the fight you picked

Who else want it? — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm 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 bein'
And still usin' that Auto-Tune
So let's about it (let's talk about it)

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

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