Luyện nghe bài hát Whitey's Revenge (The Eminem Diss)

Did I hurt your
Uh...I'm to be scared now, right?
Yo...I'd to dedicate this record right here
To Mr. Mathers' mother, yeah
This for your moms

Here come the
One they call
All you of Whitey
Are all
So won't the real Slim Shady act up?
Get up
Get eyes blacked up
With your candy-ass name you're a candy-ass
smack you up, shut you off like the Clapper
Whoever said you was raw, son, lied
I know that shit I spit on Dialated hurt pride
Screamin' on a how you wish I died
But you don't wanna see me on physical side
You're just a big tough guy, to act hard
But you won't walk a lobby your bodyguard
You ain't pullin' my card, you ridin' the train
Back in the day, like you got robbed for they chain
Step to me like a man, the hands, and get slain
Matter of fact, when you see me bitch, gimme brain
Yo, it's that, we could fight, Jack
put the mics down, you'll catch a beatdown
I get in New York, got fam in L.A.
And I you might be the MC that's gay
With your platinum blonde Caesar, you like a ho
Like M and M stands for Monroe
Talkin' 'bout killin' sprees, you like that, yo
Makin' lots of enemies, but that's all for
You ecstasy junkie, you waste of skills
ridin' my dill, stay high on pills
Yo, I hope you OD, don't be with me
Little bitch need to watch what sayin' to me
Talkin' shit for shock value, boy, you real
Turned hard the day Dre you a record deal
You and sold your soul for some mass appeal
Servin' up that hors d'oeuvre, kid, now eat meal
Instead of about who you should be dissin'
You to worry about who your wifey been kissin'
Or if you go to prison while you're your bid
look in on your lady and do things for your kid
Make her write you lots of letters the things that we did
And send you of me chillin' all up in your crib
That about Sway n' Tek? That was a fib
time you met me I showed you love in D.C.
But you scared like a pussy with your eyes on the floor
While your crew me love outside the front door
Talkin' 'bout "Yo, whassup, ain't you Whitey
I love that song It's Like' and that jam 'Praise the Lord'"
I do this for the money, yo, I do it for fun
You might hang around some gangstas, but you one
And you won't be slappin' me no empty gun
'bout a fag but you a one in drag
And you can't keep your woman goin' astray
Better run and check your kid for DNA
I take care of my moms, you get sued by
your corny metaphors about drugs and crack whores
You're a

up, for real
You wanna talk some shit money, talkin' with the hands, B
I ain't wastin' no more with you, man, fuck that shit, that's it