Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You like a bitch, bitch
Shut the up!
When your fans become haters
You
beard's weird

You yellin' at the mic, weird beard
We doin' once
You yellin' at the mic, your weird
Why you at the mic? (Illa)

Rihanna just hit me on a
Last night I left hickeys on her
Wait, you dissed me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, compliment me on the
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart
Was watchin' 8 Mile on my
Realized I forgot to you back
Here's that autograph for your daughter, I wrote it on a cap

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna name yourself after a gun and have a man-bun?
The woke, eyes open, undeniable
Supplyin' smoke, got the stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one to Interscope and you're Swayze
reply got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die let's see who can who
your corny lines ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm still you
By 29, I had three that had blew
Now let's talk about I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' hill
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my marrow
Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you hold (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, was three albums ago
What do you know?
Know your facts before you come at me, goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had money in '02
To it in front of you, ho
Younger me? No, the wack me, it's funny but so true
I'd be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old you

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole page with a rage
Got more fans you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a just to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You ain't never made a list to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to really
Kelly, they'll be putting your
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last sayin' Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

My biggest flops are greatest hits
The game's mine and ain't nothin' changed but the locks
So I slay this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta up Labor Day to this (the fuck?)
rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for clickbait
In a state of 'cause I said his goddamn name
Now I gotta back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's moment
This is it, as big as you're get, so enjoy it
Had to you a career to destroy it

Lethal
Go to sleep six feet deep, I'll give you a B for the
But if I was
You'd up to me, and for the record
You would suck a dick to fuckin' be me for a
Lick a ballsack to get on my
your life to be as solidified
This shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this mumble rapper
How the fuck can him and I
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
I'll him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady gon' have to live in my shadow
Exhausting, off on my offspring
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're fuckin'
'Cause Young Gerald's inside of Halsey

red sweater, your black leather
You dress better, I rap
That a death threat or a letter?
Little white
Thinks over a pic, I just don't like you, prick
Thanks for me
Now I had an on the mic to write "Not Alike"
But really, I don't care who's in the
But you're losin' the you picked

Who else it? Kells — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in these as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm with the Doc
But this idiot's boss pills and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And usin' that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So talk about it (let's talk about it)

I'm sick of your mumble rap
Need to get the up out it
Before we can talk about it (talk about it)
I'm of your blonde hair and earrings
Just 'cause you in the mirror and think
That you're Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
mean you are, and you're not about it
So just leave my dick in your mouth and keep my out it

You fuckin'... oh
And I'm playin', Diddy
You I love you