Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' weird
We this 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 just dissed me? I'm
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart
Was 8 Mile on my NordicTrack
Realized I to call you back
Here's that 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 have a
The giant's woke, eyes open,
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and you're
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die see who can out-petty who
With your lines ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm outselling you
By 29, I had albums that had blew
Now let's talk somethin' I don't really do

Go in daughter's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' mole
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a 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 need material
...Dictionary...

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

'Til I'm 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
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig your own
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You ain't never made a next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to blow
Kelly, they'll be your name
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

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

Lethal
Go to sleep six deep, I'll give you a B for the effort
But if I was
You'd 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 life to be as solidified
mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun when out of ammo?

Had enough of this mumble rapper
How the can him and I battle?
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, letting off on my
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're salty
Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You better, I rap better
That a death threat or a letter?
Little toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I don't like you, prick
for dissing me
Now I had an on the mic to write "Not Alike"
But really, I don't care in the right
But losin' the fight 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 pops and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy
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 about it (let's talk about it)

I'm sick of mumble rap mouth
to get the cock 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
you're Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
Don't mean you are, and not about it
So just leave my dick in your mouth and my daughter out it

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