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 this record right here
To Mr. Marshall mother, yeah
This one's for your

come the mighty
One they Whitey
All you sons of
Are all
So won't the real Shady please act up?
Get up
Get eyes blacked up
With your candy-ass you're a candy-ass rapper
I'll smack you up, shut you off like the
said you was raw, son, they lied
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
You're just a big tough guy, 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, kids you got robbed for they chain
Step to me like a man, with the hands, and get
Matter of fact, when you see me bitch, gimme brain
Yo, it's like that, we could fight,
Let's put the down, you'll catch a beatdown
I get in New York, got fam in L.A.
And I heard you might be the MC gay
With your platinum Caesar, you look like a ho
Like M and M stands for Marilyn
'bout killin' sprees, you ain't like that, yo
Makin' of enemies, but that's all for show
You punk ecstasy junkie, you of skills
Stop ridin' my dill, 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 shock value, boy, you real
Turned the day Dre gave you a record deal
You went and sold your for some mass appeal
up that 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 while you're doin' bid
I'll look in on lady and do things for your kid
Make her write you lots of letters about the that we did
And send you pictures of me all up in your crib
That shit about Sway n' Tek? was a fib
First you met me I showed you love in D.C.
But you were scared like a with your eyes on the floor
your crew showed 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 might around some gangstas, but you ain't 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 woman from goin' astray
Better run and check your kid for 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, talkin' with the hands, B
I ain't wastin' no more with you, man, fuck that shit, that's it