Karaoké Killshot Eminem

Rihanna just hit me on a text

Last night I left hickeys on her neck

Wait

You just dissed me

I'm perplexed

Insult me in a line

Compliment me on the next

Damn

I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart attack

Was watchin' Eight Mile on my NordicTrack

Realized I forgot to call you back

Here's that autograph for your daughter

I wrote it on a Starter cap

Stan, Stan son

Listen man Dad isn't mad

But how you gonna name yourself after a damn gun and have a man-bun

The giant's woke, eyes open

Undeniable

Supplyin' smoke

Got the fire stoked

Say you got me in a scope but you grazed me

I say one call to Interscope and you're Swayze

Your reply got the crowd yellin' Wooh so before you die let's see who can out-petty who

With your corny lines

Ow Kelly ooh

But I'm forty-five and I'm still outsellin' you

By twenty-nine I had three albums that had blew

Now let's talk about somethin' I don't really do

Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food

But you're a fuckin' mole hill

Now Imma make a mountain out of you wooh

Ho chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow

Gunner, bitch you ain't a bow and arrow

Say you'll run up on me like a phone bill sprayin' lead

Playin' dead

That's the only time you hold still

Are you eatin' cereal or oatmeal

What the fuck's in the bowl, milk

Wheaties or Cheerios

'Cos I'm takin' a shit in 'em Kelly

I need readin' material

Dictionary

Yo Slim

Your last four albums sucked

Go back to Recovery

Oh shoot

That was three albums ago

What do you know, oops

Know your facts before you come at me lil' goof

Luxury, oh you broke bitch

Yeah I had enough money in O-Two to burn it in front of you ho

Younger me, no you the wack me

It's funny but so true

I'd rather be eighty year-old me than twenty year-old you

'Till I'm hittin' old age

Still can fill a whole page with a ten year-old's rage

Got more fans than you in your own city

Lil' kiddy go play

Feel like I'm babysittin' Lil Tay

Got the Diddy okay so you spent your whole day shootin' a video just to fuckin' dig your own grave

Got you at your own wake

I'm the billy goat

You ain't never made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay

Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho

You about to really blow Kelly

They'll be puttin' your name

Next to Ja, next to Benzino

Die motherfucker like the last motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain

Alien brain

You Satanist

My biggest flops are your greatest hits

The game's mine again and ain't nothin' changed but the locks so before I slay this bitch

I mwah give Jade a kiss

Gotta wake up Labor Day to this

Bein' rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for clickbait

In a state of bliss 'cos I said his goddamn name

Now I gotta cock back, aim

Yeah bitch pop Champagne to this

It's your moment

This is it

As big as you're gonna get so enjoy it

Had to give you a career to destroy it

Lethal injection

Go to sleep six feet deep

I'll give you a B for the effort but if I was three-foot-eleven

You'd look up to me and for the record you would suck a dick to fuckin' be me for a second

Lick a ballsack to get on my channel

Give your life to be as solidified

This motherfuckin' shit is like

Rambo when he's out of bullets so what good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's outta ammo

Had enough of this tatted-up mumble rapper

How the fuck can him and I battle

He'll have to fuck Kim in my flannel

I'll give him my sandals 'cos he knows long as I'm Shady he's gon' have to live in my shadow

Exhaustin'

Lettin' off on my offspring

Lick a gun barrel

Bitch get off me

You dance around it like a sombrero

We can all see you're fuckin' salty 'cos Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey

Your red sweater

Your black leather

You dress better

I rap better

That a death threat or a love letter

Little white toothpick thinks it's over a pic

I just don't like you prick

Thanks for dissin' me

Now I had an excuse on the mic to write Not Alike

But really I don't care who's in the right but you're losin' the fight you picked

Who else want it Kells

Attempt fails

Budden, L's

Fuckin' nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle

Killshot, I will not fail

I'm with the Doc still but this idiot's boss pops pills and tells him he's got skills

But Kells the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy admits that he put the hit out that got Pac killed ah

I'm sick of you bein' wack and still usin' that motherfuckin' Auto-Tune so let's talk about it

I'm sick of your mumble rap mouth

Need to get the cock up out it before we can even talk about it

I'm sick of your blonde hair and earrings

Just 'cos you look in the mirror and think that you're Marshall Mathers

Don't mean you are and you're not about it so just leave my dick in your mouth and keep my daughter out it

You fuckin'

Oh

And I'm just playin' Diddy

You know I love you