Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

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

Rihanna just hit me on a
night I left hickeys on her neck
Wait, you dissed me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I forgot to call you
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, open, undeniable
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to Interscope and Swayze
reply got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die let's see who can who
With your corny lines ("Slim, old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm still you
By 29, I had three that had blew
Now let's about somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth food
But you're a mole hill
Now make a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow
Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' (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 takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, was three albums ago
do you know? Oops
Know your facts before you come at me, lil'
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 be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old you

'Til I'm old age
can fill a whole page with a 10-year-old's rage
Got more fans than you in your own city, kiddy, go play
Feel I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the okay so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a video just to dig your own grave
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 ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be putting your
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

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

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

Had enough of tatted-up mumble 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, off on my offspring
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You around it like a sombrero, we can all see
You're salty
'Cause Young Gerald's inside of Halsey

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

Who else want it? — attempt fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm the Doc still
But this idiot's boss pills and tells him he's got skills
But, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you bein'
And still that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So let's talk about it (let's about it)

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

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