Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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