Rotten and Royal (Remastered x2) x Rotten and Royal (Mashup)

Intro]
Legit.

Partyhustle Villain squad
Partyhustle Villain squad

[Chorus]
I'm The villain I'm the bad guy I'm the reason why
 you stair at the ceiling when you sleep
I'm the reason Angels cry and the reason willows  weep
I’m the tax on every promise that you couldn’t keep
Think of me when your favorite things start to  spoil
i am what it means to be rotten and Royal
to be rotten and Royal

[The guitars cut out. The mix drops to just the pounding drums, the creeping bass, and a ticking hi-hat. The delivery is rapid, cold, and calculated]
[Verse 1]
 Step into the parlor, come and see the display
I’m the price you gotta pay for what you threw away
Got a pocket full of singles and a calendar of sins
 It’s a beautifully choreographed way that I win
See the ego is a muscle that I flex till it breaks
You can count up the casualties, tally mistakes
I’m a calculated risk that you shouldn’t have run
The smoking remains of a loaded-up gun
[Vocal doubles lock in, panning wide]
Now you’re checking the alignment, you’re fixing the steering
But the damage is done from the words you were fear] I’m the cause of the problem, the root of the rot
 The ultimate lesson that you never got taught
So go on and write it down, put it in ink
I’m everything awful that you wanted to think
 [Beat stops dead for a split second]
And I don’t care what you thought.

[The drums switch to a half-time, dragging groove. An eerie, high-pitched guitar feedback loop rings out in the background]

[male rap vocals Verse]:
once thought to be the bringer of death seen so many lives gone
 But the script that we wrote keeps on carrying on
I’m the author of the angst, party king petty hold the target to your head I'll hold my hands real steady
 You want a savior in a jacket? A saint on the stage?
I’m just a bitter little actor ripping out the page I translate the trauma into dollars and cents
 Building up the catalog at your expense
 [Delivery gets more aggressive, pushing the mic]

[female vocals ]
 Yeah, it’s a twenty-dollar bet that you’re up late tonight
In the back of the yard trying to start a new fight
With the ghost of a version of me that you missed
 Put my name at the top of your permanent list
 I’m the sequel you hated but you had to go see
The inheritance of everything you wanted to be
So tell 'em who did it.

[Bridge female vocals]:
I'm a crime
Torn from tomorrow's headline,
 lets not pretend your not a voice in my head
im  just a warm body for your bed like  ghosts in the room
When Beautiful mirrors terrible it comes with a predictable price
check my math, go and balance your books
I am exactly as good as bad ever  looks.

They say the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.
Well, look at the branches.
Look at what grew out of the shadow of that Tommy Gun.
We don't talk it out anymore.
We just pay the cost.
(Vocal shifts to a desperate, unhinged shout as a wall of fuzz guitar builds up)
We just pay the cost!
ONE. TWO. THREE. GO!

[Out-Chorus]
(Absolute sonic chaos. The guitars are screaming, the drums are crashing like a live outro, and the vocals are a dual layer of the clean rap delivery stacked under an aggressive, emotional scream)
I’m the tax on the promise that you couldn’t keep! (Staring at the ceiling!)
The reason you’re staring at the ceiling when you sleep! (When you sleep!)
Yeah, I think in decimals, I move in the dark!
You wanted a fire, but you brought a spark! (You brought a spark!)
I’m the back-page headline, the ghost in the room!
The beautiful, terrible, predictable doom!
Go ahead and check the math, go and balance the  books!
I am exactly as bad as I look!

[Outro]
(The music instantly cuts to total silence, except for the faint hiss of a guitar amp running hot. Spoken quietly)
Yeah.
Exactly as bad as I look.
(Sound of a guitar jack being pulled out of an amp—LOUD pop, then dead air)

4826/7500

Intro] Legit. Partyhustle Villain squad Partyhustle Villain squad [Chorus] I'm The villain I'm the bad guy I'm the reason why you stair at the ceiling when you sleep I'm the reason Angels cry and the reason willows weep I’m the tax on every promise that you couldn’t keep Think of me when your favorite things start to spoil i am what it means to be rotten and Royal to be rotten and Royal [The guitars cut out. The mix drops to just the pounding drums, the creeping bass, and a ticking hi-hat. The delivery is rapid, cold, and calculated] [Verse 1] Step into the parlor, come and see the display I’m the price you gotta pay for what you threw away Got a pocket full of singles and a calendar of sins It’s a beautifully choreographed way that I win See the ego is a muscle that I flex till it breaks You can count up the casualties, tally mistakes I’m a calculated risk that you shouldn’t have run The smoking remains of a loaded-up gun [Vocal doubles lock in, panning wide] Now you’re checking the alignment, you’re fixing the steering But the damage is done from the words you were fear] I’m the cause of the problem, the root of the rot The ultimate lesson that you never got taught So go on and write it down, put it in ink I’m everything awful that you wanted to think [Beat stops dead for a split second] And I don’t care what you thought. [Chorus] I'm The villain I'm the bad guy I'm the reason why you stair at the ceiling when you sleep I'm the reason Angels cry and the reason willows weep I’m the tax on every promise that you couldn’t keep Think of me when your favorite things start to spoil i am what it means to be rotten and Royal to be rotten and Royal [Chorus] I'm The villain I'm the bad guy I'm the reason why you stair at the ceiling when you sleep I'm the reason Angels cry and the reason willows weep I’m the tax on every promise that you couldn’t keep Think of me when your favorite things start to spoil i am what it means to be rotten and Royal to be rotten and Royal [The drums switch to a half-time, dragging groove. An eerie, high-pitched guitar feedback loop rings out in the background] [male rap vocals Verse]: once thought to be the bringer of death seen so many lives gone But the script that we wrote keeps on carrying on I’m the author of the angst, party king petty hold the target to your head I'll hold my hands real steady You want a savior in a jacket? A saint on the stage? I’m just a bitter little actor ripping out the page I translate the trauma into dollars and cents Building up the catalog at your expense [Delivery gets more aggressive, pushing the mic] [female vocals ] Yeah, it’s a twenty-dollar bet that you’re up late tonight In the back of the yard trying to start a new fight With the ghost of a version of me that you missed Put my name at the top of your permanent list I’m the sequel you hated but you had to go see The inheritance of everything you wanted to be So tell 'em who did it. [Bridge female vocals]: I'm a crime Torn from tomorrow's headline, lets not pretend your not a voice in my head im just a warm body for your bed like ghosts in the room When Beautiful mirrors terrible it comes with a predictable price check my math, go and balance your books I am exactly as good as bad ever looks. They say the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Well, look at the branches. Look at what grew out of the shadow of that Tommy Gun. We don't talk it out anymore. We just pay the cost. (Vocal shifts to a desperate, unhinged shout as a wall of fuzz guitar builds up) We just pay the cost! ONE. TWO. THREE. GO! [Chorus] I'm The villain I'm the bad guy I'm the reason why you stair at the ceiling when you sleep I'm the reason Angels cry and the reason willows weep I’m the tax on every promise that you couldn’t keep Think of me when your favorite things start to spoil i am what it means to be rotten and Royal to be rotten and Royal [Out-Chorus] (Absolute sonic chaos. The guitars are screaming, the drums are crashing like a live outro, and the vocals are a dual layer of the clean rap delivery stacked under an aggressive, emotional scream) I’m the tax on the promise that you couldn’t keep! (Staring at the ceiling!) The reason you’re staring at the ceiling when you sleep! (When you sleep!) Yeah, I think in decimals, I move in the dark! You wanted a fire, but you brought a spark! (You brought a spark!) I’m the back-page headline, the ghost in the room! The beautiful, terrible, predictable doom! Go ahead and check the math, go and balance the books! I am exactly as bad as I look! [Outro] (The music instantly cuts to total silence, except for the faint hiss of a guitar amp running hot. Spoken quietly) Yeah. Exactly as bad as I look. (Sound of a guitar jack being pulled out of an amp—LOUD pop, then dead air)

0/500