Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' weird
We doin' once
You yellin' at the mic, your weird
Why you yell at the (Illa)

just hit me on a text
Last I left hickeys on her neck
Wait, you just dissed me? I'm
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm sorry you want me to have a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
I forgot to call you back
Here's that 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
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one to Interscope and you're Swayze
Your reply got the yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die let's see who can 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 albums that had
Now let's talk somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin'
But a fuckin' mole hill
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the barrel to my bone marrow
Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your last albums sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
do you know? Oops
Know your facts before you come at me, lil'
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had enough in '02
To it in front 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

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

My flops are your greatest hits
The game's mine again and ain't changed but the locks
So before I this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Labor Day to (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some prick 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 gonna get, so it
Had to give you a to destroy it

Lethal
Go to sleep six feet deep, give you a B for the effort
But if I was
You'd look up to me, and for the
You suck a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
a ballsack to get on my channel
Give your life to be as
This mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when out of bullets
So what is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this tatted-up 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 he's have to live in my shadow
Exhausting, letting off on my
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance around it a sombrero, we can all see
fuckin' salty
'Cause Young balls-deep inside of Halsey

red sweater, your black leather
You better, I rap better
That a death or a love letter?
white toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I just don't you, prick
for dissing me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I don't who's in the right
But losin' the fight you picked

Who else want it? Kells — fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in these coffins as 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 the day Diddy admits
That he put the hit out got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And still usin' mothafuckin' 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
Before we can even talk about it (talk it)
I'm sick of your hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the mirror and
That you're Marshall (Marshall Mathers)
Don't you are, and you're not about it
So just leave my in your mouth and keep my daughter out it

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