Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

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

Rihanna just hit me on a
Last night I left hickeys on her
Wait, you just me? I'm perplexed
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a attack
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I forgot to call you
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 gun and have a man-bun?
The woke, eyes open, undeniable
Supplyin' smoke, got the fire
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and you're
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 outselling you
By 29, I had albums that had blew
Now let's talk about I don't really do

Go in daughter's mouth stealin' food
But a fuckin' mole hill
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my 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? Wheaties or
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your last four albums
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three ago
What do you Oops
Know facts before you come at me, lil' 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, it's but so true
I'd rather be 80-year-old me than you

'Til I'm old age
Still can fill a whole with 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 your day
Shootin' a video to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat
You ain't made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, be putting your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker sayin' Hailie in
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest flops are greatest hits
The game's mine and ain't nothin' 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 some prick usin' my name for
In a state of 'cause I said his goddamn name
Now I gotta back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
It's moment
is it, as big as you're gonna get, so enjoy it
Had to you a career to destroy it

Lethal
Go to six feet 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 dick to fuckin' be me for a
Lick a to get on my channel
Give your life to be as
This mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this mumble rapper
How the can him and I battle?
He'll to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' 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 Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You better, I rap better
That a threat or a love letter?
white toothpick
Thinks it's over a pic, I just don't you, prick
Thanks for me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to "Not Alike"
But really, I don't care in the right
But you're the fight you picked

Who want it? Kells — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm with the Doc
But this idiot's boss pops pills and 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 talk it (let's talk about it)

I'm sick of your rap mouth
to get the cock up out it
Before we can even talk it (talk about it)
I'm sick of blonde hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the mirror and
That you're Marshall (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 playin', Diddy
You know I you