Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You sound a bitch, bitch
Shut the up!
your fans become your haters
You
Fuckin' weird

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' weird
We doin' this
You yellin' at the mic, beard's weird
Why you yell at the (Illa)

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

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna name yourself after a damn gun and a man-bun?
The woke, eyes open, undeniable
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and Swayze
Your reply got the yelling, "Woo!"
So you die let's see who can out-petty who
With your corny lines ("Slim, 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 mouth food
But you're a mole hill
Now I'ma make a out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my bone
Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me a phone bill, sprayin' lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, the only time you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your four albums sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
What do you know?
Know your facts you come at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had money in '02
To it in front of you, ho
Younger me? No, you're the wack me, 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 a 10-year-old's rage
Got fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat
You never made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to blow
Kelly, they'll be your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

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

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

Had of this tatted-up 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 he's gon' have to in my shadow
Exhausting, letting off on my
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You around it like a sombrero, we can all see
fuckin' salty
'Cause Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

red sweater, your black leather
You dress better, I rap
a death threat or a love letter?
Little white
Thinks it's over a pic, I just don't you, prick
for dissing 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 the fight you picked

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

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

You fuckin'... oh
And I'm just playin',
You know I you