Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Anti Hero's (feat. Copywrite), artist - Smut Peddlers. Album song Porn Again, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.02.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Eastern Conference
Song language: English
Anti Hero's (feat. 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? |