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 right here
To Mr. Marshall Mathers' mother,
This one's for your

Here the mighty
One call Whitey
All you sons of
Are all
So won't the real Slim Shady act up?
Get up
Get your eyes up
With your name you're a candy-ass rapper
I'll smack you up, you off like the Clapper
Whoever you was raw, son, they lied
I know that I spit on Dialated hurt your pride
Screamin' on a record how you I died
But you don't wanna see me on this side
You're just a big guy, tryin' to act hard
But you won't walk a lobby without bodyguard
You ain't pullin' my card, you ain't ridin' the
Back in the day, kids like you got robbed for they
to me like a man, with the hands, and get slain
Matter of fact, when you see me bitch, some brain
Yo, it's like that, we could fight,
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
With your platinum blonde Caesar, you look a ho
Like M and M for Marilyn Monroe
Talkin' 'bout killin' sprees, you like that, yo
lots of enemies, but that's all for show
You punk ecstasy junkie, you of skills
Stop ridin' my dill, stay on pills
Yo, I hope you OD, be playin' with me
Little bitch to watch what you're sayin' to me
shit for shock value, boy, you ain't real
Turned hard the day Dre gave you a deal
You went and sold your soul for some appeal
Servin' up hors d'oeuvre, kid, now eat this meal
Instead of worryin' about who you be dissin'
You need to worry who your wifey been kissin'
Or if you go to prison while you're your bid
I'll look in on your lady and do things for kid
Make her write you of letters about the things that we did
And send you of me chillin' all up in your crib
That shit about n' Tek? That 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
While your crew showed me love outside the 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 around some gangstas, but you ain't one
And you be slappin' me with no empty gun
Talkin' 'bout a fag but you a one in
And you can't keep your woman from astray
Better run and check your kid for DNA
I take care of my moms, you get by yours
With your corny metaphors drugs and crack whores
a sucker

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