You sound like a bitch, Shut the up! When your become your haters You Fuckin' beard's You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' weird We this once You yellin' at the mic, your weird Why you at the mic? (Illa)
just hit me on a text Last night I left on her neck Wait, you just me? I'm perplexed 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 forgot to you back Here's that autograph for 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 a man-bun? The giant's woke, open, undeniable Supplyin' smoke, got the stoked Say you got me in a scope, but you me I say one to Interscope and you're Swayze Your 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 talk about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's mouth stealin' food But you're a mole hill Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo! Ho, chill, actin' you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow Gunner? Bitch, you ain't a bow and Say run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' lead (brrt) dead, that's the only time you hold still (hold up) Are you eating or oatmeal? What the in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios? 'Cause I'm a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material ...Dictionary...
"Yo, Slim, your last four sucked Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, that was albums ago What do you know? Know your facts 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 rather be 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 fans than you in own city, lil' kiddy, go play like I'm babysitting Lil Tay Got the Diddy okay so you spent your day Shootin' a video to fuckin' dig your own grave Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat You ain't made 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' Hailie in 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 wake up Labor Day to (the fuck?) Bein' rich-shamed by prick usin' my name for clickbait In a state of bliss I said his goddamn name Now I gotta back, aim Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop) your moment This is it, as big as you're get, so enjoy it Had to give you a to destroy it
injection 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 fuckin' be me for a a ballsack to get on my channel Give your life to be as This mothafuckin' is like Rambo when he's out of bullets So what is a fuckin' machine gun when 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 give him my '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 dance it like a sombrero, we can all see fuckin' salty 'Cause Young Gerald's balls-deep of Halsey
red sweater, your black leather You better, I rap better That a threat or a love letter? Little toothpick Thinks it's 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 who's in the But you're losin' the you picked
Who else want it? Kells — fails! Budden — L's! Fuckin' in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle Killshot, I not fail, I'm with the Doc still But this idiot's boss pops and tells him he's got skills But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah! I'm of you bein' wack And still that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune So let's about it (let's talk about it)
I'm sick of your mumble rap Need to get the up out it Before we can even talk about it (talk it) I'm of your blonde hair and earrings Just 'cause you look in the mirror and you're Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers) Don't mean you are, and you're not 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