Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

You at the mic, fuckin' weird beard
We doin' 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 just me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, compliment me on the
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 yourself after a gun and have a man-bun?
The woke, eyes 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 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 three albums that had
Now let's talk about somethin' I don't do

Go in someone's mouth stealin' food
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
Gunner? Bitch, you a bow and arrow
Say run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you hold (hold up)
Are you cereal or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or
'Cause I'm takin' a 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 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 rather be 80-year-old me than you

'Til I'm old age
Still can fill a whole page with a 10-year-old's
Got more fans than you in own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the okay so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a just to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy 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 last motherfucker sayin' in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My flops are your greatest hits
The game's mine again and ain't nothin' but the locks
So before I this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Labor Day to (the fuck?)
rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for clickbait
In a of bliss 'cause 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 career to it

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

Had enough of this tatted-up mumble
How the can him and I battle?
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
give 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 around it a sombrero, we can all see
You're fuckin'
'Cause Young balls-deep inside of Halsey

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

Who else 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 idiot's boss pops pills and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day admits
That he put the hit out got Pac killed, ah!
I'm of you bein' wack
And still that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's about it)

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

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