[Intro]
Yeah I'm about to body y'all
Yeah, I'm about to body y'all
Catch a body with bars, watch the body fall
Then drop the body off, I'm about to body y'all
Yeah I'm about to body y'all
Yeah, I'm about to body y'all
Catch a body with bars, watch the body fall
Then drop the body off, I'm about to body y'all
[Verse 1: Ca**idy]
My tongue like a gun, it's time to let a slug spray
I been made RAID, but I ain't runnin' out of bug spray
He been a f*ggot, that n***a always was gay
See he a man-b**h, t**n' on a man's dick
Y'all he grab balls, no damn mitt
But y'all ain't catch it, I'm infected, I'm too damn sick
They gon' have this diss bumpin' like a damn zit
'Cause this like tryna make a poodle fight a damn pit
This a dog fight, but every p**y make a dog bite
I'm like high beams, you a fog light
You can't shine 'cause your rhymes just alright
I'm a off n***a, soft n***as live a hard life
And I don't never have an off night
I'm always on my J-O, this a second round K-O
I heard your diss but that sh** weak
And then you switch beats
That's the same sh** I did on RAID, yo
This n***a soft like Play-Doh
I spit fuego, my dudes is movin' if I say so
They stay with toasters like an Eggo
Them dudes sick, they a stick a pool stick in your A-hole
Aye yo, I been had k**ers on the payroll
When you was still playin' with the Lego
I never wore fake Air Force Ones
I'm in the studio in Gucci's with Air Force guns
You ain't nothin' like us, I'm the nicest
I was jumpin' in cyphers when you was in diapers
So don't disrespect a grown man
'Cause I'll cut your arm off
And then smack you with your own hand
Man, you said I shoulda died in that car crash
Well I'mma soak you in car gas and light a match
You should stop writin' raps 'cause your bars trash
I'll have your fraud-a** lookin' like cigar ash
Dag, all burnt the f**k up
You shoulda been learnt that I was turnt the f**k up
You said I wear purple Dickies with a du-rag and a 5X tee
But you dress like a true f*g
Tight-a** shirts, squeezin' your man breasts
Tight a** pants lookin' like Spandex
You better stop it, or you'll get popped like a Xanax
I'm still feelin' myself, no hand s**
Yeah, I wasn't there when the cops came
But how you know? You wasn't there when them shots banged
Them cats ratted on me when the cops came
I'm a f**in' G, I'll show you my discovery
For real, I ain't take a deal on my man
I took it to trial, and they squealed on my man
Your career goin' downhill, I feel for you man
I been had sk**s man, chill, you a fan
I'm still ill man, and you still a f**k, corny
I think this n***a Meek Millz got a crush on me
I'm doin' me, I ain't worryin' 'bout your monkey a**
It look like this n***a wearin' a monkey mask
You trash, don't get ga**ed with your flunky a**
You lasted like a year or two, but your career through
You terrible, why the f**k would I be scared of you?
What the hell you tellin' Ca** with your yellin' a**?
My record five thousand and zero
I ain't ever lost, I'mma boss, youse a weirdo
You tryna act like you a street n***a
But you weak n***a, you ain't Mike Knox or Black Dinero
It's a lot of Philly n***as that be extra ill
But you just a silly n***a with a record deal
And you a ugly n***a tryna have s** appeal
You a rider, yeah? Get the f**k outta here
I'mma put you on the entre
It's f**ked up what you did to that n***a Lil' in Conway
They was the same cats that came up with you
But you ain't break bread, so they don't f**k with you
You be rhymin' all the time like you bust pistols
But n***a you ain't got the heart to do it
Stop talkin' stupid, I ride out, you need starter fluid
I'm tryna keep the game alive, but it's hard to do it
'Cause all these artists make garbage music
That's why I only listen to myself and my artists' music
We got the hardest music, you so soft in your pillow bag
I go hard like a Brillo pad
Your Mom said I'm your Dad, I should be feelin' bad
'Cause I missed your whole childhood, and that's really sad
She really mad that I don't deal with your silly a**
I did pop ya Mom, but you was not mine
Nah, I'm 'bout to call Maury on the hot line
And get a DNA, 'cause you know what he'd say
(You are not) the father, damn right
These chicks you be screwin' could ruin ya damn life
I got a whole lot of sons
But the only biological ones is the ones with my damn wife
Life is a gamble, so you'd better role the damn dice
The right type of way or you've got a price to pay
Aye, I stay wired, you already know
Higher than a helium balloon when you let it go
I drink a whole cup liquor, twist a whole dutch
Of that grape haze, I call it a Fruit Roll Up
You know what? I'm too damn good
So I'mma blow up like tryna microwave a canned good
Ya man good, I spray mine
Since a kid, I was like Trayvon, walkin' in the damn 'hood
Now I spit new bars over old beats
My flow heat, I've got a hot head not cold feet
I roll leaf, get higher than a bloody nose seat
You so sweet, from Monday to Sunday you so weak
I'm so street, you know you don't want no beef
'Cause when I put them caps in your grill, it ain't gold teeth
I throw bullets like a QB, go deep
'Cause when I blast rounds, it'll be your last down
be the last sound that you'll ever hear
Your blood'll be squirtin' everywhere
Ya dead, your head'll look like it was never there
Yeah, all that tough talking'll get you a shut coffin
Yup, me and your main s*ut f**k often
I pick her up, and get my dick s**ed, f** talkin'
And I stopped wearin' j**els, I don't wanna shine
'Cause even in the summertime it be the f** hawkin'
I'm still ballin', 40 points and a**ists
I've been the sh**, you ain't 'bout that life, you ain't into this
Sit the bench, you can't ball on the injured list
I'll end you career for free to be generous
I'm not a feminist, I get more chicks than Ellen Degeneres
But this d**k come with benefits
You been a b**h, nobody think you a thug
'Cause done made plenty scenes in them skinny jeans
I'll make you skinny dip in a pool of blood
When this Ruger slug blows your a** to smithereens
And you said you f**ked my girl, that's bullsh**
But me and my wife had a mnage with your b**h
The bull hit, and then I came on the who*e's lips
Then sent her home, and you was kissin' the who*e's lips
Let's get sh** straight, I had my dick in that b**h face
So you should let 'em know how my dick tastes
Them corny bars you done said already
You already know I heard it on the radio in February
You had to wait 8 months to respond back?
n***a, you ain't ready for combat, your rhymes wack
Yeah, I'm probably on the molly and some Cognac
But I'mma make Rick Ross rip up your contract
I'm too real, you ain't never had true sk**
I ain't broke, chill, man I'm still worth a few mill'
You remind me of Sisq from Dru Hill
f** how you feel, you got Lil' Snupe k**ed
And you only ride out on two wheels
You a motorcycle n***a, I don't like you, n***a
I spit cooked crack, I put that on the Bible, n***a
I pack guns to jack son like Michael, n***a
And all your bars is recycled. n***a
I've got a bunch rhymes, you say the same sh** a bunch of times
And I know Rick Ross, the real Rick Ross
sh**, your boss stole his name, it's got him pissed off
'Cause he was really in the street knockin' bricks off
Kilo after kilo, and yours was a C.O.
The last time we ran into each other
You was like: "Ca** let's do a song, you know you tha Hustla"
Yeah, I run my city like Broad Street