This is a song about "Apple laptop"

So i go home and play, on my laptop,

The clientele buy and sell like a pawn shop

So back off and unpack your lunchbox grab the apple sauce

And never let up, look how i just crept up without applause

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

And get your adams apple chewed off by a golden retriever

She got a nice swag, and the apple bottom like that apple like mac

Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back

I rhyme like a laptop to get a rap prop

Let em play with her box, she give the greatest top

It's like you dropped your laptop without backing up your memory

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree