Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' 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 just me? I'm perplexed
Insult me in a line, me on the next
Damn, I'm really sorry you me to have a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 Mile on my
Realized I forgot to you back
Here's that autograph for daughter, I wrote it on a Starter cap

Stan, Stan, son
Listen, man, Dad mad
But how you gonna name after a damn gun and have a man-bun?
The giant's woke, eyes open,
Supplyin' smoke, got the stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to and you're Swayze
Your reply got the yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die see who can out-petty who
With your lines ("Slim, you're old")—ow, Kelly, ooh
But I'm 45 and I'm still you
By 29, I had three albums had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I really do

Go in someone's daughter's stealin' food
But a fuckin' mole hill
Now make 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 run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you still (hold up)
Are you cereal or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, Wheaties or Cheerios?
I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your last albums sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
do you know? Oops
Know your facts 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 wack me, it's funny but so
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 own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
You ain't never a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be putting your
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
the last motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

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

Lethal
Go to six feet deep, I'll 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
a ballsack to get on my channel
Give your life to be as
mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a machine gun when it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this tatted-up mumble
How the can him and I battle?
have to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll give him my
'Cause he knows, long as I'm he's gon' 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 salty
'Cause Young balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, your leather
You dress better, I rap
That a death threat or a 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 fight you

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

I'm sick of mumble rap mouth
Need to get the up out it
Before we can even talk it (talk about it)
I'm sick of your 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 and keep my daughter out it

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