Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

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

just hit me on a text
Last night I left on her neck
Wait, you dissed me? I'm perplexed
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart
Was 8 Mile on my NordicTrack
Realized I to call 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 name yourself a damn gun and have a man-bun?
The giant's woke, open, undeniable
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and Swayze
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die 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 albums that had blew
Now let's talk somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's stealin' food
But a fuckin' mole hill
Now make a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, lead (brrt)
dead, that's the only time you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four 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, bitch? Yeah, I had enough in '02
To burn it in of you, ho
Younger me? No, the wack me, it's funny but so true
I'd rather be 80-year-old me 20-year-old you

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole page with a rage
Got more fans than you in your own city, kiddy, go play
Feel I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
You never made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be your name
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

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

injection
Go to six feet 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 a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
Lick a to get on my channel
your life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is like when he's out of bullets
So what is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this 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 Shady 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
You're fuckin'
Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You dress better, I rap
That a threat or a love letter?
white toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I just like you, prick
Thanks for me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I care who's in the right
But you're losin' the fight you

Who want it? Kells — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I not fail, I'm with the Doc still
But this idiot's boss pops pills and him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a the day Diddy admits
That he put the hit out got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And usin' that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So talk about it (let's talk about it)

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

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