Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You sound a bitch, bitch
Shut the up!
When your fans become your
You
beard's weird

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

Rihanna hit me on a text
Last night I left on her neck
Wait, you dissed me? I'm perplexed
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you want me to a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 Mile on my
I forgot 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 name yourself after a damn gun and have 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
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So you die let's see who can out-petty who
With your corny lines ("Slim, old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm outselling you
By 29, I had three that had blew
Now let's talk about I don't really do

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

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

'Til I'm old age
Still can fill a whole page a 10-year-old's rage
Got more than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole 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 Iggy ho, you about to really
Kelly, be putting your name
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

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

Lethal
Go to sleep six feet deep, I'll give you a B for the
But if I was
You'd up to me, and for the record
You would a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my
Give life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of

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

Your red sweater, your black
You better, I rap better
a death threat or a love letter?
Little toothpick
Thinks 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? Kells — attempt fails! — L's!
Fuckin' in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I not fail, I'm with the Doc still
But idiot's boss pops pills and tells 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 sick of you wack
And still that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So let's talk it (let's talk about it)

I'm sick of your mumble rap
to get the cock up out it
Before we can talk about it (talk about it)
I'm of your blonde hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the and think
That Marshall 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 just playin',
You I love you