Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

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

just hit me on a text
Last night I left on her neck
Wait, you just me? I'm perplexed
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you me to have a heart attack
Was 8 Mile on my NordicTrack
Realized I forgot to 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,
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 you die let's see who can out-petty who
With your corny ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm outselling you
By 29, I had three albums that had
Now let's talk about somethin' I really do

Go in someone's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' mole
Now make 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)
dead, that's the only time you hold still (hold up)
Are you cereal or oatmeal?
the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...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, bitch? Yeah, I had enough in '02
To burn it in of you, ho
Younger me? No, you're the me, it's funny but so true
I'd be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old 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
like I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig your own
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
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 your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest flops are your greatest
The game's mine again and nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay this I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some prick my name for clickbait
In a state of bliss 'cause I his goddamn name
Now I cock 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

injection
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 dick to be me for a second
Lick a to get on my channel
your life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun it's out of ammo?

Had of this tatted-up mumble rapper
How the fuck can him and I
He'll have to Kim in my flannel
give him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' to live in my shadow
Exhausting, letting off on my
a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!
You dance around it a sombrero, we can all see
fuckin' salty
'Cause Young balls-deep inside of Halsey

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

Who else want it? Kells — attempt fails! — 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 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' mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So let's about it (let's talk about it)

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

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