Royce da 5'9" - Who Got Bodied?! (Mistah F.A.B. Diss) lyrics

Now I done told this nigga to shut his mouth
I guess he wasn't hearin' me
I'm beyond this peon, he's scared of me
Apparently he don't see that he
Don't compare to me
Cause he ain't remain silent
Like TI's security
It's clear to me he'll fuck up his own cash
Now take your little freestyle and
Shove it up your ass
Followed by the "oohs" and "aahs"
Your foolish pride done fucked around
And put you on the losing side
Who got bodied?
Nigga, you sick? Then I'm a hot toddy
Coke flow, I spit so much Whitney I got Bobby
I'm a sound off, this nigga's a clown y'all
Fifty niggas with him wearin' jheri curls
Hoppin' out of clown cars
Shows over Bozo, no mo', I'm back
Time to face the music
I'mma just straight up abuse him
He choose to diss
But he don't know what he gettin'
While he's spittin' funny shit
I'm gettin' money bitch
C'mon I'm a product of my environment
He ain't gotta try to bring
Malcolm out of retirement
He go at me I hit him ASAP, take that
Get shot up like a cap gun at a race track
He's probably from the part of the
Bay where the gay's at
Where the fags migrate and give
Each other AIDS at
They told me that you ain't the pistol type
So yo
You know to me that means you a Frisco dyke
Get you a whoopin' like Whoopie
You steppin' in another circle
I wear Purple Label you just
Wear The Color Purple
Everything about your lame flow
Represents everything ho
And every color in the rainbow
Sayin' Proof's name will get you strangled
Let my nigga rest or I bet you
Gon' be sleepin' with the angels
I'm fly, you a fly, since you lie, you die
Goodbye

Zip 'em up zip 'em up
Zip 'em up zip 'em up

C'mon, you showed you ain't got respect soon
As you diss me so sudden
So when you bow it better
Look like you toe touchin'
I'm so fuckin' ridiculous with
The flow cousin i pack heat and I will
Give you the whole oven
Coke, heroin, flower
Fuck it the whole cupboard
No publishin' for this fuck it
I'm so stubborn
I threw the bait, you took it
I'm on the boat buzzin' reelin' you in
Tryin' to eat you before Joe Budden

Budden said the battle was embarrassin'
Comparison, this shit here more embarrassin'
So I'mma use his beat to murk you
And maybe he'll see that I'll murk him too
I'm just playin' my nigga Buddens, you cool
I'm just fuckin' with you cause
I got "Nothin To Do"
This Mistah Fag, he's a waste of my time
And my time is money so I'm
Wastin' money just makin' this rhyme
It ain't beef but I would
Like to shoot your jeweler
Your charm look like some kind
Of retarded school bus
All you missin' is the "duh" and the drool
The wheelchair
The helmet and the confused look
Niggas get shook when Malcolm speaks
There ain't no way I can hear
You on an Alchemist beat
Y'all two doin' an album together, ooh shit
Okay, I got a sample for you, loop this:

Step right up! Step right up
Let me guess your weight
I just flew in from San Francisco
And boy are my arms tired!
Step right up and watch me shoot
Through birds out of my sleeve
I'm so fuckin' funny
Let's take it to the Bay baby

Mistah FAB i'm funny
I'm a clown, with no money
Every Monday, I get a haircut
To wear a t-shirt and jeans with airbrush
I'm corny, I'm corny
There goes the real Fab, he came before me
It's not corny, he's still here too
But I don't care cause, I'm so funny

The streets will teach you
I love for The Bay nigga, Skee my people
The problem is
You think you lyrically my equal
But that don't balance out I
Gotta Keak the Sneak you
You be the bitch, nigga we be the shit
You never slang like 40
You tryin' to be B-Legit
I will eat your soul
My piece's cold cause they freeze
But these hoes is Keyshia Cole
I'll put you in the hospital
You ain't the only one that got riddles
I got two
Check it, one: Flabby, Fabby, fuck you
Fucked yo mammy, we family
Cause I'm yo daddy, son
Two: yeah, pussy thought you took me
Want a cookie? Cause nobody seems to care
So what's the fuss 'bout
Turn your girl's mouth to a Yukmouth
Nut, turn her out to a slut house
Who got bodied?

"Trick hates your guts and Proof
Ain't never like you"
"I fuck with real Detroit niggas like
Trick Trick and Chedda Boys" ask about me

I got AKs, ARs, aye y'all
This nigga been dead since the 8th bar
But I'm tryin' to overkill him
Standin' over the silly nigga
Holdin' a shotty
With the spirit shootin' at him
'til his body disappears
Lookey here, I will put your crew in boxes
I done put whole crew in boxes
And it best he stops cause
I will Freddie Foxxx him
Put him out with the tools or boxing
So think about your next move
I will let you choose your option
Top ten, dead or alive, and I got soldiers
You cast your little punk ass stones at me
I throw back boulders!
Oh yeah, it's over, hold that
Nigga this is G's up
I speed up right where you slow at
Lyrically you Borat, boring
Do anything for a laugh
You know that's annoying
It's sounds that perhaps you doubt me
Well if you ever ever make it to my city
Ask about me
Your luck's over 'cause all you tried
To do is be famous
So now you famous nationwide
For gettin' fucked over
Boy pay up, I ball, this a fo' sho' lay up
I'm playin' Chess with a Connect Four player!

It's obvious I hear you talkin' loud
I'm clappin' all day like I'm
Cheerin' in the crowd
I'm bout to catch a body, I'ma bust a mag boy
I'm bout to catch a body, I'ma bust a mag boy
I'll kill ya'! If you ain't
Never ran from a nigga
Then you damn sure should probably pick
A day to start runnin'
Get runnin'! If you ain't never
Ran from a nigga
Then you damn sure should probably pick
A day to start runnin' get runnin'!