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

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

Here the mighty
One they call
All you of Whitey
Are all
So the real Slim Shady please act up?
Get up
Get eyes blacked up
With your candy-ass name you're a rapper
smack you up, shut you off like the Clapper
Whoever you was raw, son, they lied
I know shit I spit on Dialated hurt your pride
on a record how you wish I died
But you don't wanna see me on this physical
just a big tough guy, tryin' to act hard
But you won't walk a lobby without bodyguard
You ain't my card, you ain't ridin' the train
Back in the day, kids like you got robbed for chain
Step to me like a man, with the hands, and get
Matter of fact, you see me bitch, gimme some brain
Yo, it's that, we could fight, Jack
Let's put the mics down, you'll catch a
I get in New York, got fam in L.A.
And I heard you might be the MC gay
your platinum blonde Caesar, you look like a ho
Like M and M stands for Marilyn
'bout killin' sprees, you ain't like that, yo
Makin' lots of enemies, but all for show
You punk ecstasy junkie, you of skills
Stop my dill, stay high on pills
Yo, I you OD, don't be playin' with me
Little 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 record
You went and sold soul for some mass appeal
Servin' up hors d'oeuvre, kid, now eat this meal
Instead of worryin' about who you should be
You need to worry about who your been kissin'
Or if you go to prison you're doin' your bid
I'll look in on your and do things for your kid
Make her you lots of letters about the things that we did
And send you pictures of me chillin' all up in your
That shit about n' Tek? That was a fib
time you met me I showed you love in D.C.
But you were 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 Ford?
I love that song 'What It's and that jam 'Praise the Lord'"
I do this for the money, yo, I do it for fun
You hang around some gangstas, but you ain't one
And you be slappin' me with no empty gun
Talkin' a fag but you a one in drag
And you can't keep woman from goin' astray
run and check your kid for your DNA
I take care of my moms, you get by yours
your corny metaphors about drugs and crack whores
You're a

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