Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

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

Rihanna hit me on a text
Last night I left on her neck
Wait, you just dissed me? I'm
me in a line, compliment me on the next
Damn, I'm really you want me to have a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I forgot to call you
Here's autograph 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 fire
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 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 albums that had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I really do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin'
But you're a mole hill
Now I'ma a mountain 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 you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
Go to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three albums ago
What do you Oops
Know your facts you come at me, lil' goof
Luxury, oh, you broke, Yeah, I had enough money in '02
To it in front of you, ho
me? No, you're the wack me, it's funny but so true
I'd rather be me than 20-year-old you

'Til I'm old age
Still can a whole page with a 10-year-old's rage
Got more fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole day
a video just to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the goat
You ain't never a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, be putting your name
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last sayin' Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

My biggest flops are greatest hits
The game's mine and ain't 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 usin' my name for clickbait
In a state of bliss 'cause I his goddamn name
Now I gotta back, aim
Yeah, bitch, pop to this! (pop)
your moment
This is it, as big as gonna get, so enjoy it
Had to give you a to destroy it

Lethal
Go to six feet 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 ballsack to get on my
your life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is like when he's out of bullets
So what is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of ammo?

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

Your red sweater, your black
You better, I rap better
That a death or a love letter?
Little toothpick
it's over a pic, I just don't like you, prick
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 you're losin' the fight you

Who else want it? Kells — fails! Budden — L's!
Fuckin' nails in these coffins as as Cottonelle
Killshot, I not fail, I'm with 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 of you bein' wack
And still usin' that Auto-Tune
So let's talk 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 sick of your blonde and earrings
'cause you look in the mirror and think
That you're Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
mean you are, and you're not about it
So just my dick in your mouth and keep my daughter out it

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