Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

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

just hit me on a text
Last 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 you want me to have a heart attack
Was watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I to call you back
Here's autograph 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 woke, eyes open, undeniable
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 you die let's see who can out-petty who
your corny lines ("Slim, you're 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 don't do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth 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
Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' (brrt)
Playin' dead, that's the only time you still (hold up)
Are you eating or oatmeal?
What the fuck's in the bowl, milk? or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, last four albums sucked
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 money in '02
To it in front of you, ho
Younger me? No, you're the wack me, funny but so true
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 okay so you your whole day
Shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig 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 Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to really blow
Kelly, they'll be your name
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker Hailie in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

My biggest flops are greatest hits
The game's mine again and nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' by some prick 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)
It's moment
This is it, as big as you're get, so enjoy it
Had to you a career to destroy it

injection
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
a ballsack to get on my channel
Give your to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this mumble rapper
How the fuck can him and I
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, off on my offspring
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

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

Who else want it? Kells — fails! Budden — L's!
nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot, I will not fail, I'm with the Doc
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
he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!
I'm sick of you wack
And still usin' mothafuckin' Auto-Tune
So talk about it (let's talk about it)

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

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