Terrace Martin - Apple Pie lyrics

Published

0 327 0

Terrace Martin - Apple Pie lyrics

[Intro: Travi$ Scott] She say your bad a** always had a thing for sweets Guess that's why I'm so hot on the street Won't you and your friends come eat with me And let me show you how to whip that recipe She say your bad a** always had a thing for sweets Guess that's why I'm so hot on the street Won't you come over and eat with me And let me show you how to whip-whip-whip-whip that recipe [Verse 1: Travi$ Scott] I don't want your apple pie, mama I ain't tryna dap up n***as blockin' me Made it out the spot, straight to quintana And I'm still that n***a with diamonds on my blocka I say when they come at me I bet they have some backup I bet I take your b**h, she take that dick straight up the stasher Keep an ounce of garlic just to keep away the Draculas I just seek out to find my home, why can't they just leave me 'lone [Hook: Travi$ Scott] Cause I don't want your apple pie, no no mama I don't want your apple pie, no I don't want your apple pie, mami I don't want your apple pie no more I need my own pepper pepper, please, pepper, pepper seeds Need my own reme-remedy, my own legacy Yeah I don't want your apple pie, mama I need my own pepper please My own legacy, my own recipe [Verse 2: Travi$ Scott] I came to get it nominated From a spot that y'all seen Bun B blow up I hate to break your heart, I bet I'll make the mark That y'all see a legacy go up Goyard done break your pockets Boy I'm out in Paris lettin' all these beats go up I make in one appearance what these n***as hatin' makin' in four seasons H-Town, know we gon' stunt I'm for real and your Rollie tick Look b**h, this the Rodeo But I ain't goin' out for your bullsh** I don't want your apple pie, mama I don't wanna dap up n***as blockin' me I am everything except a rapper sh** I got it lit, 25 lighters on my dresser [Bridge: Travi$ Scott] Rocks in the night Rocks in the night Rocks in the night Rocks in the night Rocks in the night Rocks in the night [Outro: T.I.] Que será, será, so the story goes On and on and back and forth, the evolution's absolute Tours and shows and groupie who*es Wouldn't hesitate if he had to shoot Though he'd rather not Forever been the elephant in the room That everyone can't wait to run and tell about The head to the body of the belligerent militant group That sponsors the revolution that will not be televised Decide to cross those lil' guys, you've obviously been ill-advised Yet and still, the question that arises to the mind Will he make it? Was it worth it? Did he win? Will he survive the Rodeo?