Luyện nghe bài hát Killshot

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

You yellin' at the mic, weird beard
We doin' 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 hickeys on her
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 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 gonna yourself after 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 lines ("Slim, 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 somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's mouth stealin' food
But you're a fuckin' hill
Now make a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the barrel 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 time you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need material
...Dictionary...

"Yo, Slim, your last four albums
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, 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 me than 20-year-old you

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a whole page with a 10-year-old's
Got more than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play
Feel like I'm Lil Tay
Got the Diddy so you spent your whole day
Shootin' a just to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
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
to Ja, next to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker sayin' in vain
brain, you Satanist (yeah)

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

Lethal
Go to sleep six 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 dick to be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my
Give your to be as solidified
mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets
So what good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of

Had enough of this tatted-up rapper
How the fuck can him and I
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
I'll give him my
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' have to in my shadow
Exhausting, off on my offspring
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, black leather
You better, I rap better
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 care who's in the
But you're the fight you picked

Who else want it? — attempt 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 pops and tells 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 sick of you bein'
And usin' that 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 even talk about it (talk it)
I'm sick of your hair and earrings
Just 'cause you look in the mirror and
That you're Mathers (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