Azealia Banks Rates Bubble Tea, Designer Crocs, and Bath Bombs

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(marker scratching on paper)

Naw, give me the fucking,

give me that dirty shit.

I want that swollen, antibiotic, oversized chicken breast,

fried extra juicy.

With extra corn syrup, and extra everything on top of it.

Extra diabetes on it.

Yeah, give me that growth hormone.

Give it all to me.

Give me the sleep hormone.

Put it all in the chicken.

Fuck me up.

Like, you ever see a chicken in the pack at the supermarket

and you be like, damn that motherfucker looks strong.

This chicken looks strong as fuck.

He'd be like,

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Underrated.

I'm really into that, for sure.

I would make something that isn't too expensive,

you know?

If I'm cooking for a crowd,

I don't want to spend more than $300, tops.

Cause it can get really expensive.

You know?

You throw a dinner party,

you could end up spending $1200.

And then you're just like, shit,

I don't even like any of these fucking people.

I don't like any of these motherfuckers.

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Overrated.

I feel like America is just eating us alive,

while we're eating it.

And Walmart is like the breeding, feeding, shitting,

sleeping place.

Yeah, that's where we go to die.

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Turnt, turnt and burnt.

That's the burn up.

You know they say turn up don't burn up.

You gotta stop turning up before you burn up.

Like you just, no.

You leave Bourbon Street, burnt.

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You know, I've never worn a pair of Crocs

a day in my life.

I just feel like I'd be sinking down

to that sub-layer beneath the Walmart.

That's the end.

It's the end of the end.

You can't come back.

I'm sure one day I'll get pregnant,

and I'll probably have them all

in a million fucking colors.

But that day is not today.

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Sound bath?

What the fuck is that?

It sounds lame as fuck.

I'm not there.

Maybe if I got a free coupon.

I'd have to get a ride there.

And actually, someone would have to dress me.

I'd need like a pep-talk beforehand as well.

An emotional support pet.

(laughing)

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Ew, no.

I'll have a guinea pig.

I like a guinea pig or a rabbit.

I don't need ferrets like stealing my Rolex.

Or like, you know, taking the knobs off my stove and shit.

And they stink.

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Overrated, I don't like tapioca.

You know what it tastes like?

Like, the tea.

Do you remember when your teacher

used to wash the chalkboard and she had

that bucket of chalk water?

That's what the tea tastes like, to me.

And then there's just this weird balls in it.

And when you see the tapioca pearls in the chalk water,

it kind of makes my skin crawl.

Because it just looks like little larvae.

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Shit. Damn. I don't know.

Because now you've got me thinking of colonialism

and all kind of other shit.

And it's just like, my mind's going places

that, you know, you just turned this into something else.

This is like the prehistoric mosh pit,

is what you're saying?

This is like the origins of the mosh pit?

I don't know, it seems like something really masculine.

Maybe if I had a bunch of testosterone I'd understand it.

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Oh, overrated.

You know, I've actually never used a bath bomb,

because every time I see one I just feel like

it's gonna give me a yeast infection.

Like I feel like that shit is just gonna end up in my twat,

and just set it on fire.

It looks like it shouldn't be in the water

with your private parts.

Every time I see someone doing it on the internet,

I'm just like, oh my God.

My butt itches just watching the video

of a bath bomb dissolving.

No, I feel like it still just set my whole pussy on fire.

It'd just go up in flames.

Like the whole house would just set on fire.

Like it'd start in my pussy,

and just burn the whole fucking bathroom down.

(marker squeaking on paper)

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