Luyện nghe bài hát KILLSHOT (MGK Diss)

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

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

Rihanna just hit me on a
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 watchin' 8 on my NordicTrack
Realized I to call you back
that 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 giant's woke, open, undeniable
smoke, got the fire stoked
Say you got me in a scope, but you me
I say one to Interscope and you're Swayze
Your got the crowd yelling, "Woo!"
So before you die let's see who can who
your corny 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 about I don't 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' 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, the only time you hold still (hold up)
Are you eating cereal or
What the 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 back to Recovery," oh shoot, that was three ago
What do you Oops
Know your facts before you come at me, lil'
Luxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had enough 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 80-year-old me than you

I'm hitting old age
Still can fill a 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 okay so you spent your day
Shootin' a video to fuckin' dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake, I'm the billy
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 sayin' Hailie in vain
Alien brain, you (yeah)

My biggest flops are greatest hits
The game's mine again and nothin' changed but the locks
So before I slay this I, mwah, give Jade a kiss
wake up Labor Day to this (the fuck?)
Bein' rich-shamed by some usin' my name for clickbait
In a state of 'cause 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 you a career 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 suck a dick to fuckin' 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 what good is a fuckin' 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 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 salty
Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater, your leather
You dress better, I rap
That a death threat or a letter?
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 care in the right
But losin' the fight you picked

Who else it? Kells — attempt 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 pills and 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 sick of you wack
And usin' that mothafuckin' 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 about it (talk about 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 mean you are, and 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 know I you