Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

You at the mic, fuckin' weird beard
We this once
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
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
I forgot to call 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 yourself 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 Interscope and Swayze
reply got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So you die let's 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 albums that had blew
Now talk about somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' mole
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, like 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 bill, sprayin' lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you hold (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, 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 it in front of you, ho
Younger me? No, you're the wack me, 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 with a rage
Got more than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent whole day
Shootin' a just to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat
You ain't never a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be putting name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest are your greatest hits
The mine again and ain't nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a
Gotta wake up Day to this (the fuck?)
rich-shamed by some 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)
It's moment
This is it, as big as gonna 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
You'd look up to me, and for the
You would a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my
Give your to be as solidified
mothafuckin' shit 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 this tatted-up mumble
How the can him and I battle?
He'll to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll give him my
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady gon' have to live in my shadow
Exhausting, off on my offspring
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You around it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're salty
'Cause Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, your black
You dress better, I rap
That a death threat or a love
Little white
Thinks it's a pic, I just don't like you, prick
Thanks for me
Now I had an on the mic to write "Not Alike"
But really, I care who's in the right
But you're the fight you picked

Who else want it? — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in these coffins as soft as
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
But this idiot's boss pops pills and tells him got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a the day Diddy admits
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm of you bein' wack
And still usin' that mothafuckin'
So talk 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 it (talk about it)
I'm sick of blonde hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the mirror and
That Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
mean you are, and you're 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