Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

You yellin' at the mic, fuckin' beard
We doin' once
You at the mic, your beard's 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 sorry you me to have a heart attack
Was 8 Mile on my NordicTrack
Realized I to call 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,
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one call to and you're Swayze
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So you die let's 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 talk somethin' I don't really do

Go in daughter's mouth stealin' food
But you're a mole hill
Now I'ma a mountain out of you, woo!
Ho, chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my bone
Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow
Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill, lead (brrt)
Playin' dead, the only time 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, your four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three ago
What do you know?
Know your facts 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, it's but so true
I'd be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old you

'Til I'm old age
can fill a whole page with a 10-year-old's rage
Got more fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go
Feel I'm babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent your day
Shootin' a video to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at own wake, I'm the billy goat
You never made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to blow
Kelly, they'll be putting name
Next to Ja, to Benzino—die, motherfucker!
Like the last motherfucker sayin' in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest flops are greatest hits
The game's mine again and ain't changed but the locks
So before I slay this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a
wake up Labor Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for
In a state of 'cause I said his goddamn name
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 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 look up to me, and for the
You would a dick to fuckin' be me for a second
Lick a to get on my channel
your life to be as solidified
This mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when he's out of
So good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's out of ammo?

Had enough of this tatted-up mumble
How the can him and I battle?
He'll have to fuck Kim in my
give him my sandals
'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady 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
You're fuckin'
Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

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

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

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

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