Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

You sound a bitch, bitch
the fuck up!
When your fans your haters
You
beard's weird

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

just hit me on a text
Last I left hickeys 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 have a attack
Was watchin' 8 Mile on my
I forgot to call you back
Here's that autograph for your daughter, I 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 Interscope and Swayze
Your got the crowd 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 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' 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)
Playin' dead, that's the only you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating or oatmeal?
the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
What do you know?
Know your facts before you at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, Yeah, I had enough money in '02
To burn it in 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

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole page with a rage
Got more than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You ain't never 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 last sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My flops are your greatest hits
The mine again and ain't nothin' changed but the locks
So I slay this 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 goddamn
Now I cock back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
your moment
This is it, as big as you're get, so enjoy it
Had to give you a to destroy it

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

Had of this tatted-up mumble rapper
How the fuck can him and I
have to fuck Kim in my flannel
I'll him my sandals
'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 around it a sombrero, we can all see
You're fuckin'
'Cause Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of

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

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

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