Catch A Body

Look, fuck Meek Mill, Dreamchasers, MMG
And whoever else affiliated with
That bitch ass nigga

Yeah, I'm about to body y'all
Yea, 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
Yea, 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

My tongue like a gun
It's time to let a slugs spray
I been made RAID
But I ain't running out of bug spray
He been a faggot, that nigga always was gay
See he a man bitch, twerking on a man 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 bumping
Like a damn zit cause this like tryna make a
Poodle fight a damn pit this a dog fight
But every pussy make a dog bite
I'm like high beams, you a fog light
You can't shine
Cause your rhymes just alright
I'mma off niggas
Soft niggas 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 shit weak
And you switch beats
That's the same shit I did on RAID yo
This nigga soft like Play-Doh
I spit fuego, my dudes is moving if I say so
They stay with toasters like an Eggo
Them dudes sick
They a stick a pool stick in your A-hole
Ayo, I been had killers on the payroll
When you was still playing with a Lego
I never wore fake Air Force 1's
I'm in the studio in Gucci's
And Air Force guns
You ain't nothing like us, I'm the nicest
I was jumping in cyphers while
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 writing raps
Cause your bars trash
I'll have your fraud ass
Look like cigar ash
Dag, all burnt the fuck up
You shoulda been learnt that I
Was turnt the fuck up
You said I wear purple Dickies
With du rag and a 5X tee
But you dress like a true fag
Tight ass shirts, squeezing your man breasts
Tight ass pants, looking like Spandex
You better stop it
Or you get popped like a Xanax
I'm still feeling myself, no hand sex
Yeah, I wasn't there when the cops came
But how you know
You wasn't there when the shots bang
Them cats ratted on me when the cops came
I'm a fucking 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 going downhill
I feel for you man
I been having skills man, chill, you a fan
I'm still ill man
And you still a fuck corny
I think this nigga Meek Millz
Got a crush on me i'm doing me
I ain't worrying 'bout your monkey ass
It look like this nigga wearing a monkey mask
You trash
Don't get gassed with your funky ass
You last like a year or two
But your career through you terrible
Why the fuck would I be scared of you
What the hell you telling Cass
What your yelling ass
My record five thousand and zero
I ain't ever lost, I'mma boss
You's a weirdo
You try to act like you a street nigga
But you weak nigga
You ain't Mike Knox or Black Dinero
There a lot of Philly niggas
That be extra ill
But you just a silly niggas
With a record deal
And you a ugly nigga tryna' have sex appeal
You a Ryder yeaaaa? Get the fuck outta here
I'm put you on the entrée
It's fucked up what you did to
That nigga Lil and Conway
They was the same cats that came up with you
But you ain't break bread
So they ain't fuck with you
You be rhymin' all the time
Like you bust pistols
But nigga you ain't got the heart to do it
Stop talking 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 artist music
We got the hardest music
You so soft in your pillow bag
I go hard like a Brillo pad
You Mom said I was your Dad
I should be feeling bad
Cause I missed your whole childhood
And that's really sad
She really mad that I don't
Deal with your silly ass
I did pop ya Mom, but you was not mine
Naw, I'm 'bout to call Maury
On the hot line
And get a DNA, cause you know what he'a say
(You are not) the father, damn right
These chicks you be screwing could
Ruin your damn life
I got a whole lot of Sons
But the only biological ones is
With my damn wife life is a gamble
So you better roll the damn dice
The right type of way or
You gotta price to pay
Aye, I stay wire, 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
Walking in the damn hood
Now I spit new bars over old beats
My flow heat, I got a hot head not cold feet
I roll leaf
Get higher than the bloody nose seats
You so sweet
From Monday to Sunday you so weak
I'm so street
I know you don't want no beef
Cause when I put the 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
(Pratt, prattt, pratt) , be the last sound
That you ever hear
Blood will be squirting everywhere you dead
Your head'll look like it was never there
Yeah, I'll that tough talking'll get
You a shut coffin
Yup, me and your main slut fuck often
I pick her up, and get my dick sucked
Fuck talking and I stopped wearing jewels
I don't wanna shine
Cause even in the Summer time
It be the fuck hawking
I'm still balling, 40 points, 10 assists
I've been the shit, you
Ain't about 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 dick from with benefit's
You been a bitch, nobody think you a thug
Cause you a made plenty scenes
In 'em skinny jeans
I'll make you skinny dip in a pool of blood
When this Ruger slug
Blow your ass to smithereens
And you said you fucked my girl
That's bullshit but me and my wife had
A ménage with your bitch the Bul hit
And then I came on the whore lips
Then sent her home
And you was kissing the whore lip
Let's get shit straight
I had my dick in that bitch face
So you should let him know how my dick taste
Them corny bars you done set already
You already know I heard it
On the radio in February
You had to wait 8 months to respond back
Nigga you ain't ready for combat
Your rhymes wack
Yea, I'm prolly 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 skill
I ain't broke chill
Man I'm still worth a few mill
You remind me of Sisqó from Dru Hill
Fuck how you feel, you got Lil Snupe killed
And you only ride out on two wheels
You a motorcycle nigga
I don't like you nigga i spit cooked crack
I put that on the Bible nigga
I pack guns, to jack son like Michael nigga
And all your bars is recycled nigga
I got a bunch rhymes
You say the same shit a bunch of times
And I know Rick Ross, the real Rick Ross
Shit your boss stole his name
Got him pissed off
Cause he was really in the
Street knocking bricks off
Kilo after kilo, and yours was a CO
The last time we ran into each other
You was like, "Cass let's do a song
You know you tha Hustla"
Yeah, I run my city like Broad Street
Do you really wanna take it there
Is you sure Meek the next time
I'mma slaughter one of your beats
The streets gon' be like
"Cass spazzed on the bul Meek"
Yeah, I keep rapping 'til the track stop
I spit crack rock, Meek don't act shocked
I'mma a legend, you know what I did already
Everybody know I bodied you
And your crib already
I bodied you on every song that we ever made
Then I bodied you again when
I put together RAID
This fight right here, is an easy win
Everybody 'bout to Tweet
"Cass bodied Meek again"
I know I'm getting underneath your skin
He prolly in his Phantom
Having a temper tantrum
I'mma always have the fucking belt
I'mma body you
So you can ghost write for your fucking self
I don't wanna hear nothing else
Yo, just go cut your dick off
And go fuck your self