Killin' It

[Intro: [?]] Bitch, what? Apples [?] the bad bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? Apples [?] the bad bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? (Stay rotten) [Verse 1: Lee Monro] Twenty bucks says it's nuff said, you fuckheads Your double d cups on the nightstand where my mind's kept Right-wing, but I'm high, lyin', I'm fuckin' sober as Dobermann only known for exposin' [?] from the overpass (Pass) Pass whatever, must last forever Kanye, I'm a cunt, 'cause I'm blunt, no cheddar Tough, no leather, better off with the fisticuffs Get a gist of a bitch and I'm liftin off on you sittin' ducks (What?) So call the roll while I make some calls in a roll So many fuckin' features, this live is an awful show 'Cause half what you wanna hear isn't here, but I'm thinkin', though It's prob'ly, 'cause we usin' them names on the fliers, bro—fuck But that's us, looser than fuckin' gooses Geese's, Jesus, we leavin' 'em dead, hang with the nooses Your banger reckin' the loop, and the truth, man, and the proof is That even Proof fucked with it, all the hate then—excuses (What?) You can't deny this clone of God personified in flesh The mane around my face done made your mans look like a lioness Alpha male scalin' mountains, are you astounded by how I progress? And made a room full of strangers raise their hands like playin' Simon Says (Simon says) Sleepwalker put in work while them werewolves are howlin' Try to fuck with us and prepared for these various outcomes (Bitch) Strugglin', your current life, I'll forever rest your head My mind state stay as sharp as a grave guardian's sense of death Tell your leaders best believe this how we get it in Coldblooded killin' 'em, still they feelin' me like I'm [?] Livin' in a prism where Heaven and Hell collide, we classy as fuck Pass the dutch with our pinkies up, use phoenix feathers to pen the fire We animals, drunk off fermented bottles of rotten apple juice So attractive, I make your chick shit her pantaloons Use my dick to climb up and experience life at this altitude So I can spartan kick you from it when I punch holes in your parachute [Verse 2: [?]] Yeah Ayo, you comin' out swingin', [?] can't test the stance Son, I'm way above your chance [?] dance This is a beat necromance [?] viper [?] gronkitis, you impressed? Not the lightest You got the motherfuckin' market on your mind And the bar was not raised by your millimetre line Ayo, Lee and Ello, we change it temporello You hot and cold with your damn tall poppy syndrome I'm back again [?] for me the time is runnin' out Real rap, yeah, [?] drought, I'd rather put that gun to mouth Than to ride with these lames, formaldehyde after the flames [?] like acclaim, die hard like Maclaine And you think you got the idea of what's goin' on [?] what articles to read [?] in the song [?] do you belong, underground or commercial Pigeonhole in your circle, you ain't tight, and we'll hurt you [Verse 3: [?]] You messin' with the Baddest bad since Michael Jackson's dad Slapped him out his Black skin And if you can't handle that then keep your sandals strapped Dance on tabs of acid, don't confuse for fashion See me in a fur coat, I'm flashin' families flaccid Showin' off the birth' suit, showin' off, it'll hurt you Soft emotional shell, fragile PC fascist Act like faggotry's a virtue, squeal shrill if you want to But you won't change shit, my aim's to pick apart the planet Till polarities flip, and not a little bit embarrassed 'Bout it either, I ether all these amateurs Bitches paramount to the preacher Molotov Lord Steez is on the feature, reason why you rewind Disbar the speaker, treat ya to a bottle of Bleach when I meet ya, bruh, I'll eat your fuckin' ego You're like the buzzin' of flies to me, [?] [Verse 4: 360] Instead of doin' stupid crime and doin' time I treat the rap game like the crack game, and I'm doin' fine (All right, ayy) It's Forthwrite, bitch, I'm what your crew admire (Yeah) What you inspire is for me to jump into a fire (Ah) [?] suicide, crucify [?] euthanise ya These rappers need to fall back (Like): scuba diver (Yeah) I need to brutalise any dude who writes See, I'm part of the humankind but never seen a human nicer (I'm so nice) Don't fuck with me, I can screw your life up (I can) Ain't nothin' to what I'll do to mine, but I'm a human spider (And?) This ain't a punchline I just wanna rhyme supervisor with Uber driver (Woo) My mic now's at a hundred degrees Drake ain't runnin' through the six, 'cause no one runnin' through me You bet I'm on your mind, you better never cross the line See, the view on top's amazin', but it's better from behind (Fuck [?]) [Verse 5: Ello. C] You see, there's nothin' on this record I can say to make me stand out Except the fact this oriental Aussie doesn't win crowds I'm introvert and mentally unstable from the ordinary Place me in a room of rappers, label that a mortuary Death to all, watch these awkward frowns, 'cause I'm lovin' that Don't need a group of yes men, the fun below my ball sack's Unorthodox, I'm 'bout to pop the lock and break Pandora's box A stripper named Pandora watchin' Dora while I eat her box Ha (What?) Yeah, I'm totally off-topic Say what I fuckin' want, there's no off button to stop it Finish the tape or rehab, those were my only options So fuck it, gimme a slot, so the token Asian is spotted Hi-ya, that's what I'm feelin' on the regular Ciggie butt brain, I snatch your lighter like I stole your flame (Stole your flame) (Oh shit) Ah shit, what the fuck's his name That dropkick spittin' from a skeleton frame, it's fuckin' Ello [Verse 6: [?]] I don't write raps for fans, I write raps for sluts I rap thinkin' with [?] throw in their guts I rap for free fifty bucks, straight in the nose While you other rappers still achin' for bars, but, bruh, it's cool I'd happily rap for the pink dollar The highest standard of hygiene, drugs and they love Madonna I do, too, 'cause she's the world champion slut And if you heard what I heard, it's like, man, she can fuck Look, Big Daddy Kane did, Dennis gave her the rod, man Guy Richie, hmm, ah, I don't know what, man Maybe laid next to her on the bed havin' a bat While she [?] in her snatch, she's rock and roll, huh? Little bit older, what is she, mid-seventies? Would I still do her? Definitely, all the way to the cemet'ry Heavenly [?] Hades, soundtrack of the eighties All I'm tryna say is she's better than all you ladies; I love you, Madonna [Chorus: [?]] We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? We the rotten fuckin' apples [?] bitch, what? The bad bitch, what? Said, the bad bitch, what, what? [Outro: [?]] What, cunt? [?] yep