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copywrite - poorly promote this (high & mighty diss) lyrics

[verse: copyright]
hmm, peon, where do i start? part of me
doesn’t even have the heart to tear him apart, the other
part of me’s already dousing ether on his arteries, but
nothing’s left ‘cause these features k!lled him and charged a fee
heeheehee, i know it’s f+cked up for me to laugh
when he’s washed up, so i’ma leave him dead in a bleeding bath
the only hot high & mighty songs were featuring me, you’re weak as can be
that’s why you never got a feature for free. you’re stan
you went to harvard, so you understand what this means. i was
signed to y’all but still charged a grand for sixteen. feel
honored you’re being haunted by the ceo bomber
you ran a shady label minus the talented slim. politics?
i wanted change, i should have seen obama. when i see him, please
they’re all tnt, “we know drama.” i’m here to
have fun in this funeral, my hollow tips are musical
when k!lling label presidents, it’s politics as usual
you’re message+board+lurking, constant hating, it’s cool
i’d be mad too if my debut album sounded like a compilation
didn’t wanna respond. wait. who dissed me? eon?
who the f+ck is eon, and what the f+ck is e on?
he’s sniffing crushed e pills, that boy’s sipping freon
this peon’s getting peed on. oh, and thanks for putting me on
your dj? he’s wrong, imaging it wrong
and he came out, perez hilton and him on the blog
i should stomp you and solar out with timberlands on. you couldn’t
even make a hit with eminem on the song
last hit? who you lying to? heck, the f+ck why you try?
closes y’all came to a hit is when necro punched mighty mi
man, unity’s how i thought y’all do things. d+mn, i learned not
when y’all called non phixion jew+tang clan. you dissed
the legendary masta ace (then what?), then when he asked your face
you both apologized and lied about, what a mass disgrace
milo used to beg for us (please!), let him into weathermen
to f+ck with y’all, we let him in, then kicked him out five seconds in
living off tame and cage’s royalties. hey, there ain’t right
what? you got no talent of your own, you f+cking parasite
tomorrow, you can tell your grandkids, “i was a big man
one time, i paid the legendary kool g rap ten grand
i even sprung for lunch, and when i asked what g wanted for dinner
management said, ‘g only eats steak and shrimp, man.’” but hey
you tried your best, two rich kids from pennsylvania
signing checks. moral of the story: you can’t buy respect
hey, wait a minute, motherf+cker. can’t hide from me
y’all put out nighthawks, y’all owe camu’s mom money
her name’s lavonne smith, little b+tches. now look her up
some certified fronts, straight two of you crooked f+cks
really should have kept your little mouth shut, b+tch. you’re four+
+foot+one, and stilts on the couch, huh, b+tch? my boy r.a
pimped y’all for ten grand with the video from “bottom feeders”
epitome of twitter, more follower than leaders
i had that ugly wife of yours over to swallow liters
but she got the beak of a swallow and probably scar my p+n+s
this [?] will put you in a nightmare [?]
on elm’s street, freddy, club, machete, and h+ll’s heat
and being a solo artist was never first. i did that ‘cause y’all
too dumb to put out deadringer and sign on to megahertz

- copywrite lyrics

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