Bad Apples - Travis Thompson

Said, «that boy all bark, no bite»

Running full-court 'til we got no lights

In the '04, no place so high

They like: «how them bad apples go and get so ripe?»

Yeah, I said, «that boy all bark, no bite»

Running full-court 'til we got no life

In the '04, no place so high

They like: «how them bad apples go and get so ripe?»

Said, «that boy all bark, no bite»

Plate of pulled pork, and a can of cold sprite

Young and so bored

Baby, what’s your vice?

Yeah, we can find the Lord if you give me your night

'Cause I’m from the West side

Well, not really, I’m from just north of the West side

Where the kids don’t know no better

Don’t know left, right

Which way is up, and like: Yes, I

Don’t say enough, and they: best line

You play too much, and I: get fined

Don’t pray for us

So, you riding or not?

Travy keep it up above

You bare your pussy, just sleep on the bus

Walk through the halls with the weed in my sock

Until I seen the dogs, tryina sell and I blush

Tryina keep a C average, ah

Mama going bat-shit

I’m too occupied with tryina stick my index in a bad bitch

Used to stumble through the madness, ah

Taking from my classmates

Thinking: if I can’t afford it, then why should he get to have it?

I still remember every man who ever jumped me, I can’t get past

And when I’m on, I’m finna put a hit out on your bitch ass

That boy all bark, no bite

Running full-court 'til we got no lights

In the '04, no place so high

They like: «how them bad apples go and get so ripe?»

Yeah, I said, «that boy all bark, no bite»

Running full-court 'til we got no life

In the '04, no place so high

They like: «how them bad apples go and get so ripe?»

Ayy

Mama say I’m not one of your little friends

Man, I’m fucking up, I’m fucking up, I’m fucking up again, ayy

Dirt all in the house, my dad don’t trust none of my friends

Man, I’m fucking up, I’m fucking up, I’m fucking up again

Yo, I love the way they look when they tell me I’m not a bad kid

I love the way they look when they tell me potential massive

I love the way y’all book when security doing back flips

In the back of a Crown Vic, fake cop asked me: «Travis, how’s your dad?»

City too small for me, sip the lukewarm forty

Put the rose gold sharpie on these two poor shorties

Dot the «i"with the heart and tell 'em, «shirts is goin' be twenty»

This the life of the boy from a part of town not important

With the block on my sleeve, got some rocks on my teeth

'Nother check in the mail

Ain’t no boss telling me how to move with my day

Who’d have thought this where I’d be

Little chubby kid from Ambaum talking shit, but honestly

You know that

Said, «that boy all bark, no bite»

Running full-court 'til we got no lights

In the '04, no place so high

They like: «how them bad apples go and get so ripe?»

Yeah, I said, «that boy all bark, no bite»

Running full-court 'til we got no life

In the '04, no place so high

They like: «how them bad apples go and get so ripe?»

Most nights I get too high, can’t find my way back home

Burned brave, weak left last round

Don’t know myself no more

Most nights I get too high, can’t find my way back home

Burned brave, weak left last round

Don’t know myself no more

Answer the phone, bro

Are you good, or are you good?