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

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

Here come the
One they Whitey
All you of Whitey
Are all
So won't the Slim Shady please act up?
Get up
Get your eyes up
With your candy-ass you're a candy-ass rapper
I'll smack you up, shut you off the Clapper
said you was raw, son, they lied
I know that shit I spit on 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 your bodyguard
You ain't pullin' my card, you ain't the train
Back in the day, kids you got robbed for they chain
to me like a man, with the hands, and get slain
Matter of fact, you see me bitch, gimme some brain
Yo, like that, we could fight, Jack
Let's put the mics down, catch a beatdown
I get in New York, got fam in L.A.
And I heard you be the MC that's gay
With platinum blonde Caesar, you look like a ho
Like M and M stands for Monroe
Talkin' 'bout killin' sprees, you like that, yo
lots of enemies, but that's all for show
You punk ecstasy junkie, you waste of
ridin' my dill, stay high on pills
Yo, I you OD, don't be playin' with me
Little bitch need to what you're sayin' to me
Talkin' shit for value, boy, you ain't real
Turned hard the day Dre gave you a deal
You went and sold soul for some mass appeal
Servin' up that hors d'oeuvre, kid, now eat this
Instead of about who you should be dissin'
You to worry about who your wifey been kissin'
Or if you go to while you're doin' your bid
look in on your lady and do things for your kid
Make her write you lots of about the things that we did
And send you pictures of me all up in your crib
That shit about 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 showed me outside the front door
Talkin' "Yo, whassup, ain't you Whitey Ford?
I love that song 'What Like' and that jam 'Praise the Lord'"
I don't do for the money, yo, I do it for fun
You might hang around gangstas, but you ain't one
And you won't be slappin' me with no gun
Talkin' a fag but you a one in drag
And you can't keep your woman from astray
run and check your kid for your DNA
I take care of my moms, you get sued by
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 no more time with you, man, fuck that shit, that's it