Anti Hero's (feat. Copywrite) - Smut Peddlers, Copywrite

We arrive with the sun smog up in the vintage London fog

I’m fuckin your G after you took her to miniature golf

From the floor of this shitty-ass kitchen

I’ve seen iller cats in my general Tso’s chicken

And your dogs is in the black bee sauce

Fuck the wrong bitch raw and have your dick bound up in gauze

I’m not worried bout no air time

I’m more concerned about when my bald spot’ll reach my hairline

Cats be stuck on that Grinch colored lie

With one bloodshot and a twitch up in the other eye

So you get stuck by the strong safety

When you a serial killer clown like John Wayne Gacy

Donate that track to charity

Watch it become a TRL calamity, soon to be parodied

I stay married, to some D-cup breasteses

With music, weed, and porno as my mistresses

We all weirdos, anti-hero's

The ones your moms said wouldn’t amount to fuckin zero

Flaws in the laws, can’t be downed by it

Stalk through life with a quiet defiance

We all weirdos, anti-hero's

The ones your moms said wouldn’t amount to fuckin zero

So much hip-hop bullshit to cut through

And if you don’t like it, well then fuck you!

Lovin sluts when they IQ’s under three

They suck cock and rock a 34 double-D (uh-huh)

Earth will crumble under me

And the moon will plummet to the sea before you cats are soning me

I’m who rappers come see when they want heat

If you had traces of Copywrite in your sperm you couldn’t compete

So fuck you, your mom, and your team of pawns

And if you don’t believe in God, then you’re callin me a fraud

Outlawed, for disturbin the peace in synagogues

I’m rollin with a crew that look like fuckin Sweathogs

Endin up strapped to hospital gurneys

With a stage show resemblin some «Weekend at Bernie’s»

Straight from «The Dead Zone» with ten poems

Of dead tomes, now they gotta reinvent foes

Since a child, my got porn rolls on file

That’s why I filmed your bitch with «Girls Gone Wild»

Fuckin coward;

I got priests and nuns lovin Tower

If it ain’t about rap or pussy, I don’t give a fuck about it

Written for written, you can’t front, your clan sucks

Fuck it here, spit my written, I’ll come off the head like dandruff

Searchin the trunk of your Benz for money to spend

I’ll steal from anybody especially one of my friends

That goes double for that bitch you share your microphone with

And those dumb enough to believe she writes her own shit

You ain’t no enemy, my friends are worse

Got a memory with an endless verse

To serve any emcee within this earth

Whether kin to me, or friend since birth

I’ll kill you, hop in a rented jeep, rear-end your hearse

Recite sinister quotes

Minutes before I slice your minister’s throat

With a miniature sword

So where my local whores with open sores

That want Copywrite semen to marinate they vocal chords?