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

Did I hurt your
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 moms

Here come the
One they Whitey
All you of Whitey
Are all
So won't the real Slim Shady act up?
Get up
Get your eyes up
With candy-ass name you're a candy-ass rapper
smack you up, shut you off like the Clapper
Whoever you was raw, son, they lied
I that shit I spit on Dialated hurt your pride
Screamin' on a how you wish I died
But you don't see me on this physical side
You're a big tough guy, tryin' to act hard
But you won't walk a lobby without your
You ain't my card, you ain't ridin' the train
Back in the day, kids you got robbed for they chain
Step to me a man, with the hands, and get slain
Matter of fact, when you see me bitch, some brain
Yo, it's like that, we fight, Jack
Let's put the mics down, you'll 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
M and M stands for Marilyn Monroe
Talkin' 'bout sprees, you ain't like that, yo
lots of enemies, but that's all for show
You ecstasy junkie, you waste of skills
Stop my dill, stay high on pills
Yo, I hope you OD, 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 you a record deal
You went and sold your soul for some mass
Servin' up that d'oeuvre, kid, now eat this meal
Instead of worryin' about who you should be
You to worry 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 that we did
And send you pictures of me chillin' all up in your
shit about Sway n' Tek? That was a fib
First time you met me I showed you in D.C.
But you were scared like a pussy with your eyes on the
While your crew showed me love outside the door
Talkin' "Yo, whassup, ain't you Whitey 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 might around some gangstas, but you ain't one
And you be slappin' me with 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 kid for your DNA
I care of my moms, you get sued by yours
With your corny metaphors about and crack whores
You're a

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