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

[Verse One]
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 T.I.'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

[Hook]
Zip 'em up
Zip 'em up
Zip 'em up
Zip 'em up

[Verse 2]
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

[Verse 3]
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:

[Interlude]
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

[Under Interlude (Background)]
Mistah F.A.B. 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

[Verse 4]
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?

[Sample]
"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

[Verse 5]
I got A.K.s, A.R.s, 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!

[Hook]
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'!

[Outro: Chedda Boy & Trick Trick dissing Mistah F.A.B.]