Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You like a bitch, bitch
Shut the up!
When your fans become your
You
Fuckin' beard's

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

Rihanna hit me on a text
Last night I left hickeys on her
Wait, you just me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a attack
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 a damn gun and have a man-bun?
The giant's woke, eyes open,
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
With your lines ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm outselling you
By 29, I had three albums had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I really do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth food
But you're a fuckin' hill
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome to my bone marrow
Gunner? Bitch, you a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you hold (hold up)
Are you eating or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three ago
do you know? Oops
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, it's funny but so
I'd rather be me than 20-year-old you

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole page a 10-year-old's rage
Got more fans you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the okay so you spent 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 really
Kelly, be putting your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker sayin' Hailie in
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

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

injection
Go to sleep six feet deep, give 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
a ballsack to get on my channel
Give your to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is like when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun when out of ammo?

Had enough of this tatted-up rapper
How the can him and I battle?
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
I'll give him my
'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 it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're fuckin'
'Cause Young Gerald's balls-deep of Halsey

Your red sweater, black leather
You better, I rap better
That a death or a love letter?
Little white
Thinks it's over a pic, I just like 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!
Fuckin' nails in these coffins as soft as
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
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
That he put the hit out got Pac killed, ah!
I'm of you bein' wack
And usin' that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's talk it)

I'm of your mumble rap mouth
Need to get the up out it
we can even talk about it (talk about it)
I'm sick of your hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the and think
That you're Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
mean you are, and you're 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