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

Did I your feelings?
Uh...I'm supposed to be scared now,
Yo...I'd like to this record right here
To Mr. Marshall Mathers' mother,
This one's for your

come the mighty
One they Whitey
All you sons of
Are all
So the real Slim Shady please act up?
Get up
Get your blacked up
With your candy-ass name you're a rapper
I'll smack you up, shut you off the Clapper
Whoever said you was raw, son, they
I know that I spit on Dialated hurt your pride
Screamin' on a record how you wish I
But you wanna see me on this physical side
just a big tough guy, tryin' to act hard
But you won't a lobby without your bodyguard
You ain't my card, you ain't ridin' the train
Back in the day, like you got robbed for they chain
Step to me a man, with the hands, and get slain
Matter of fact, you see me bitch, gimme some 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 heard you be the MC that's gay
With your platinum Caesar, you look like a ho
Like M and M stands for Marilyn
Talkin' 'bout sprees, you ain't like that, yo
Makin' lots of enemies, but all for show
You punk ecstasy junkie, you waste of
Stop my dill, stay high on pills
Yo, I hope you OD, be playin' with me
bitch need to watch what you're sayin' to me
Talkin' shit for shock value, boy, you real
Turned hard the day Dre gave you a deal
You went and sold your for some mass appeal
Servin' up that d'oeuvre, kid, now eat this meal
Instead of worryin' about who you should be
You need to about who your wifey been kissin'
Or if you go to prison while you're doin' bid
I'll look in on your and do things for your kid
Make her write you lots of letters about the things we did
And you pictures of me chillin' all up in your crib
That about Sway n' Tek? That was a fib
First time you met me I you love in D.C.
But you were scared like a pussy with eyes on the floor
While crew showed me love outside the front door
Talkin' "Yo, whassup, ain't you Whitey Ford?
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 around some gangstas, but you ain't one
And you won't be me with no empty gun
'bout a fag but you a one in drag
And you keep your woman from goin' astray
Better run and your kid for your DNA
I care of my moms, you get sued by yours
With corny metaphors about drugs and crack whores
You're a

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