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

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

Here the mighty
One they Whitey
All you of Whitey
Are all
So won't the real Slim please act up?
Get up
Get your eyes up
With your name you're a candy-ass rapper
I'll smack you up, shut you off like the
Whoever said you was raw, son, they
I know that shit I spit on hurt your pride
Screamin' on a how you wish I died
But you don't wanna see me on this physical
You're just a big tough guy, tryin' to act
But you won't walk a lobby without your
You ain't pullin' my card, you ain't 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, gimme some
Yo, it's like that, we could fight,
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 your platinum blonde Caesar, you like a ho
Like M and M stands for Monroe
'bout killin' sprees, you ain't like that, yo
Makin' lots of enemies, but all for show
You ecstasy junkie, you waste of skills
ridin' my dill, stay high on pills
Yo, I hope you OD, don't be playin' me
Little bitch need to watch you're sayin' to me
Talkin' shit for shock value, boy, you ain't
Turned hard the day Dre you a record deal
You went and sold soul for some mass appeal
Servin' up that hors d'oeuvre, kid, now eat meal
Instead of worryin' who you should be dissin'
You to worry about who your wifey been kissin'
Or if you go to prison while doin' your bid
I'll look in on lady and do things for your kid
Make her write you of letters about the things that we did
And send you pictures of me all up in your crib
That about Sway n' Tek? That was a fib
First time you met me I you love in D.C.
But you were scared like a pussy with your on the floor
While crew showed me love outside the front door
'bout "Yo, whassup, ain't you Whitey Ford?
I love that song 'What Like' and that jam 'Praise the Lord'"
I do this for the money, yo, I do it for fun
You might hang around some gangstas, but you one
And you won't be me with no empty gun
Talkin' a fag but you a one in drag
And you keep your woman from goin' astray
run and check your kid for your DNA
I care of my moms, you get sued by yours
your corny metaphors about drugs and crack whores
You're a

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