Luyện nghe bài hát Who Got Bodied Freestyle

1]
Now I don' told this to shut his mouth
I guess he hearin' me
I'm this peon, he's scared of me
Apparently he don't see that he compare to me
Cause he ain't remain silent T.I.'s security
clear to me he'll fuck up his own cash
Take your little freestyle and it up your ass
by the "oohs" and "aaahs"
Your foolish pride fuck around and put you on the loosin' side
Who got
Nigga, you Then I'm a hot tattie
flow, I spit so much Whitney I got Bobby
I'm a off
This nigga's a y'all
Fifty niggas him wearin' jheri curls, hoppin' out of clown car
Shows Bozo
No mo', I'm
Time to face the music, I'ma just up abuse him
He to, diss
But he know not what he
While he's funny shit, I'm gettin' money bitch
Blllaah!
C'mon I'm a of my environment
He ain't try to bring Malcolm out of retirement
He go at me I hit him
Take
Get shot up like a cap gun at a race (Boom)
He's probably the part of the Bay that the gay's at
the fags migrate and give each other AIDS at
They told me you the pistol type
So yo, you to me that means you a Frisco dyke
Get you a like Whoopie
You steppin' in circle
I wear purple label you just The Color Purple
about your lame flow represents
Everything hoe in color in the rainbow
Sayin' Proof's will get you strangled
Let my nigga rest or I bet you you gon' be sleepin' with the
I'm fly
You a fly
You lie
You die

Zip 'em up

2]

You showed you ain't got respect as you diss me so sudden
So you bow it better look like you toe touchin'
I'm so ridiculous with the flow cousin
I pack heat and I will give you the whole
Coke, heroin, flower, fuck it the whole
No for this fuckin', I'm so stubborn
I the bait
You took it, I'm on the buzzin'
Reelin' you in, tryin' to eat you Joe Budden

3]
Budden said the battle was

This shit here embarrassin'
So I'ma use his to merk you
And maybe he'll see that I'll him too
I'm playin' my nigga Buddens, you cool
I'm just with you cause I got +Nuttin To Do+
This Mistah Fag, he's a waste of my
And my is money so I'm wastin' money just makin' this rhyme
It beef
But I like to shoot your jeweler
Your charm look some kind of retarded school bus
All you is the "duh" and the drool
The wheelchair, the helmet and the confused
Niggas get shook when Malcolm
There a way I can hear you on an Alchemist beat
Y'all two doin' an album
Ooh
Okay, I got a for you
Loop

[circus talking]
Step right up! Step right up! Let me your weight
I just flew in from San Francisco and boy are my tired!
Step up and watch me shoot through bullets out of my sleeve
I'm so fuckin' funny. Let's it to The Bay baby

Mistah F.A.B. I'm funny. I'm a clown, no money
Every Monday, I get a haircut. To wear a t-shirt and jeans airbrush
I'm corny. I'm corny. There a real fat ? before me
It's not corny. He's here too. But I don't care cause, I'm so funny

4]
The streets teach you
I love for The Bay nigga, my people
The problem is, you think my equal
But that don't balance out I gotta to Sneak you
You be the
we be the shit
You never like 40
You to be legit/B-Legit
I will eat soul
My pieces glow cause freezin'
These hoes is Cole
I'll put you in the
You ain't the one that got riddled
I got two
it
One
Flabby, Fabby, you
Fucked yo mammie, we family I'm yo daddy, son
Two
Yeah, thought you took me
Want a Cause nobody seems to care
So what's the 'bout
Turn your girl's to a Yukmouth
Nut, turn her out to a house
Who got

[Sample of F.A.B.'s diss song]
"Trick hates your guts and Proof ain't never you"
"I with real Detroit niggas like Chedda Boys"
whispering throughout]
Ask me

5]
I got A.K.s, A.R.s, aye
This nigga been dead since the bar
But I'm to overkill him
over the silly nigga holdin' a shottie
With a spear at him
Till his disappears
a here
I will put crew in boxes
I put whole crew in boxes
And it's he stops cause I will Freddie Foxxx him
Put him out with the or boxing
So about your next move
I will let you choose your
Top ten
or alive
And I got
You cast your little punk ass stones at me, I back boulders!
Oh
It's over, hold
Nigga is G's up, I speed up right where you slow at
Lyrically you

Do for a laugh
You that's....annoying
It's sounds perhaps you doubt me

If you ever make it to my city, ask about me
Your over
all you tried to do is be famous
So now you famous for gettin' fucked over
Boy pay up
I ball, this a fo' lay up
I'm chess with a Connect Four player!

It's obvious I hear you loud
I'm clappin' all day like I'm in the crowd
I'm bout to a body
I'm a a mag boy
I'm bout to catch a
I'm a a mag boy
I'll y'all!
If you ain't never ran from a
you damn sure probably picked a day to start runnin'
Get runnin'!
If you ain't never ran a nigga
Then you damn sure picked a day to start runnin'
Get runnin'!

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