Killin' Spree

[Intro: Roc Marciano]

Wanting money for a spree

You did something mad

Ooh

When you went out in the street (Uh)

Perhaps you felt quite bad, felt quite bad

Uh, felt bad, I did

I felt bad, I felt bad

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]

Trappin' keys like a trapeze, minus the need for the balance beam

Still got to that fetty without the trap queen

No ads, I'll give your team half the magazine

Please, somebody call the fashion police

Clapped up your rental, shattered the window, broken glass in the street

It's a tragedy, his better half was in the passenger seat

My shooter got so many bodies, probably beat anybody

Hammer a thotty, fucked everybody, more bodies than Sammy and Gotti (What?)

But first, every homi' gotta be ran by me

For every dime served in lobby, murder and robbery (Bad, woo)

The streets was wild back then

Even T-Boz had a MAC-10

Never know who bangin', it'll be a rude awakening

When you naked tryna locate where your bracelet is (Where my shit at?)

My Jamaican bitch pass it to me like Jason Kidd

Babycakes, that's a great assist (Oof)

I just had to lay it in (Bad)

Lay it in for the win, maybe even bang it and break the rim (Bad, haha)

Went crazy in the gym (Crazy)

I told them niggas, "Get down and lay down" like JBM

Hopped in the grey BM' (Bad)

Don't throw the baby out with the piss (Bad)

It is what it is, when you MC light, then you paper thin (Bad)

Thin like a vape pen, slim as a inmate's chance to escape the pen

The triggers on the hammers is hairpin

Yeah, pimp, my Atlanta bitch suck the air out a blimp

That's a cherry on a banana split

Shit

[Bridge: CRIMEAPPLE]

Wanting money for a spree

You did something mad

When you went out in the street

Perhaps you felt quite bad, felt quite bad (I did)

Bad

Yeah, yeah (Bad)

[Verse 2: CRIMEAPPLE]

When Marcberg dropped, I couldn't afford a modem (Bad)

Was disconnected at the moment

When I heard Reloaded, cheddar had started flowin' (Bad)

Got some Os of petroleum on the elbow, the scale broke

Almost got derailed when twelve felt close, I couldn't fail, though (Bad)

Then hell froze over, I flexed, I might neglect the Rover (Bad)

Pull up slower in somethin' white interior, Dinesh D'Souza (Oh my God)

Met the quota, I laid vocals that's compressed with coca' (Oh my God)

That's the focus, I could write a poem and finesse the POTUS (What?)

Check the motives, for a check, I don't respect the motions (No)

Had to shake my ex, now the organs in her chest is broken (Bad)

Grew up on Goya, now it's often oysters I'm enjoyin' (Bad)

Sure, I'm a goyim, but the lawyer I'm employin' readin' the Torah (Bad)

My silhouette and aura caught her, bet it wet her warrants up (Bad)

Shorty wanna link with some E, that's blue, that's Internet Explorer (Bad, ooh)

Hallelujah, gotta thank every connoisseur, I been through it (Bad)

Got it out the sewer, had to treat a booth like it was a tiny school bus (Bad)

Provocateur, pockets filled, all the twat velour (Bad)

Poppin' off, I'll stomp you wearin' silk like Tupac Shakur (Bad)

[Outro: CRIMEAPPLE]

What? (Bad)

Bad

When—you're a writer, too, you've written some great songs

When-when-When you write, what comes first

Since you're a musician also, a great trumpet player

Does the music, music come first or the words?

No, I, ah, I usually put the music together

I put the music together, then the words come