Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You sound a bitch, bitch
the fuck up!
When your fans your haters
You
Fuckin' beard's

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

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

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

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

"Yo, Slim, your last four albums
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
do you know? Oops
Know your facts before you come at me, goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, Yeah, I had enough 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

'Til I'm old age
Still can fill a whole page a 10-year-old's rage
Got more fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go
Feel I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent whole day
Shootin' a video just to dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
You ain't never a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you to really blow
Kelly, they'll be putting name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest are your greatest hits
The game's mine again and ain't nothin' but the locks
So I slay this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some usin' my name for clickbait
In a state of bliss 'cause I his goddamn name
Now I cock back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's your
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 you a B for the effort
But if I was
look 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
Give your life to be as
This mothafuckin' shit is like when he's out of bullets
So what good is a machine gun when it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this mumble rapper
How the fuck can him and I
He'll to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll give him my
'Cause he knows, long as I'm he's gon' have to live 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 Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of

Your red sweater, black leather
You better, I rap better
That a death threat or a love
Little toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I just like you, prick
for dissing me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I care who's in the right
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 not fail, I'm with the Doc still
But this idiot's pops pills and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day admits
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And still usin' that Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's about it)

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

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