Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

You yellin' at the mic, weird beard
We this once
You yellin' at the mic, 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 me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, me on the next
Damn, I'm sorry you want me to have a heart attack
Was 8 Mile on my NordicTrack
I forgot to call you back
Here's that autograph for your daughter, I 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 giant's woke, 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
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 about somethin' I don't really do

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

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

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

My flops are your greatest hits
The game's mine again and ain't changed 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 prick usin' my name for
In a state of bliss 'cause I said his goddamn
Now I cock back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
your moment
This is it, as big as gonna get, so enjoy it
Had to give you a to destroy it

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

Had enough of this tatted-up mumble
How the can him and I battle?
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
give him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's have to live in my shadow
Exhausting, letting off on my
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance around it a sombrero, we can all see
fuckin' salty
'Cause Young balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You better, I rap better
That a death threat or a letter?
white toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I 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 in the right
But you're losin' the fight you

Who else want it? — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
But this idiot's boss pops and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a the day Diddy admits
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm of you bein' wack
And still usin' that Auto-Tune
So let's 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 sick of your hair and earrings
Just 'cause you in the mirror and think
That you're Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
Don't mean you are, and you're not it
So just leave my dick in your mouth and my daughter out it

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