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Travis Scott - Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight Album Lyrics

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Travis Scott - Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight Lyrics






The Ends

[Travis Scott:]
2AM hollerin' outside
Lookin' but I cannot find
Don't you fall asleep this time
I been on a long way drive
Only you can stand my mind
Only you can fix inside
So if I make it out tonight
Let's make it a badass time

Okay, I got it, copy
20/20, but I can't see nobody
One eye open, Illuminati
This might be the verse that make 'em drop me
Ain't makin' friends, we just makin' hobbies
No that wasn't my girl, that was just a hobby
Call her 50, tell 'em load up the lobby
Elevator up, no need to find me
Yeah, yeah
X-ray vision, see through you niggas
Newspaper stand, we press the issue
We ain't sendin' shots, we launchin' missiles
Right up at your hood and load
Checkin' Third Ward, I'm goin' mental
F*ckin' out my room, I've been rackin' up incidentals
Cookin' on a tune, I been cheffin' up instrumentals
Nothin' else to do when you're ridin' in the
When you ridin' in the, in the back of the back seat
Driver run the miles up like I'm runnin' a track meet
Gotta watch my back now, cause these niggas at me
All black in a Benz when I pull up on you

They don't want to see me in the ends, in the ends
Let me catch you creepin', yeah, if I was dead, in the ends
From the tribe of check-a-hoe like Indian
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

[Andre 3000:]
Today I'mma take a cheque and cancel left
I guess it's all survival but please be careful
I gave up on the Bible long time ago
I hope it ain't give up on me, I don't know
I came up in the town, they were murderin' kids
And dumped them in the creek up from where I live
Bodies, bodies, bodies sprinkled around
We runnin' through the sprinkler lookin' around
Killer would show up with boxes of pizza
And said he had a label recruitin' people
Put that on my grandma and everythin'
My homie said he told 'em his name was Wayne
It could've been me or could've been you too
What a memory in me, needing to lose
What's gon' patch up my intertube
So I could pop a wheelie and walk it too

[Travis Scott:]
Oh yeah, La Flame with the nappy fro now
In the ends, I'mma kick your door down
Oh yeah, we keep wildin' out the Mo' now
Oh yeah, keep that 300 zero when I pull up on ya
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JACQUES WEBSTER, JAHMAR CARTER, OZAN YILDIRIM, ANDERSON HERNANDEZ, EBONY OSHUNRINDE, ANDREW BENJAMIN
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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Way Back

[Kid Cudi:]
Woah, yeah boy
Woah, yeah boy
Woah, yeah boy
Don't wet no more

[Travis Scott:]
I need fake niggas to get way back
James Harden with the range on me nigga way back
Homie start switchin' lanes, I thought we went way back
(Wooo)
I can't get no rest (we in the house)
I fall asleep with a Tec (rack)
Stashin' all the pills in my desk (rack)
Wearin' every chain on my neck (we in the house) (come on)
I can't get no rest (come on)
I ride around with a Tec (champ)
Stashin' all the pills in my desk (champ)
Wearin' every chain on my neck (go crazy on 'em)

Woah, wait
It's summer time, why they tryna throw shade?
All these wins I can never gold state (yeah)
UFC I'm tapping to my old ways (alright)
I'm addressing shit like I'm on ways
Showed ya love, ain't show it back in OK
Like the girl that she go both ways
Dropped the Rodeo, I dodged a bull like olé
Hopped in the Bronco, skrrt off like OJ (yeah)
Flew with that sound, nigga, got that Coldplay
I be (yeah) makin' mils, made it to our hobbies (it's lit!)
Don't bring that to the crib, keep that in the lobbies
You never seen the city unless you land at Hobby
I'm so loaded off the pills, so don't ever try me
So if you see me solo dolo, you know what that mean

I need fake niggas to get way back (way back)
James Harden with the range on me nigga way back
Homie start switchin' lanes, I thought we went way back
Whew
I can't get no rest(we in the house)
I fall asleep with a Tec (rack)
If I take a sip, take the rest (rack)
Wearin' every chain on my neck (we in the house)
I can't get no rest (come on)
I ride around with a Tec (champ)
Stashin' all the pills in my desk (champ)
Wearin' every chain on my neck (go crazy on 'em)
(We in the house)

Look boy, don't believe what's on your TV
Look boy, don't you sit close to your TV
Look boy, seeing is believing
Look boy, look boy (yeah)

Would it be unlawful (yeah)
To spend a Sunday morning in a brothel
And share pics from the camera
But they'll be quick to turn that into a scandal
I'm down in the meadows
Slidin' down the waterfall, creep to the ghetto
Need my Rio de Janeiro
And I'm swimmin' out that bitch
Michael Phelps with the medals
So visit me (yeah)
I just built a castle deep (yeah-yeah)
In them trees (yeah)
That's how I get them backwoods free (yeah-yeah)
This right here some savagery (yeah-yeah)
Bend it back from me (yeah-yeah)
Way-way back for me (yeah-yeah)
Way-way back for me
Way-way back for me
Way-way back for me
Way-way back for me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacques Webster, Carlton Mays, Chauncey Hollis, Magnus Hoiberg, Roget Chahayed, Michael Dean, Brittany Hazzard, Scott Mescudi, Kasseem Dean
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
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Coordinate

[Blac Youngsta:]
Hey Travis Scott, h-h-hey Trav
You on the f*ck up, nigga
Know what I'm talkin' bout?
Nigga, one thing for sure
Two things for certain, nigga
We gon' keep drinking this motherf*cking lean, nigga
And wearin' these motherf*ckin' rockstar jeans, nigga
They want what a nigga can't stand
I don't know what they can't stand
I know why they mad, nigga
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
But we don't give a f*ck
We gon' keep this big ass mac 11 on deck
If any f*ck nigga get out of line
If any f*ck nigga want do somethin' nigga we can do it nigga
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout

[Travis Scott:]
Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies
I'mma need some more, need some more, if I really wanna feel it
Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah
Spend that money fast if I have to
Make that money back if I had you
Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Straight up!)
Coordinate the xan with the lean in my Rockstar skinnies (Yeah, yeah)
Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Yeah, yeah)
Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah

Highway, dip in traffic
2 gears, automatic
Leave the strip club tragic
2 broads going at it (It's lit!)
Me and Jacques going brazy
Me and Chase going brazy (Straight up!)
Smashin' off your old lady (Yeah!)
Everythin' goin' crazy (Yeah!)
Coordinate the tan in the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (It's lit!)
Pour a little more if you really wanna feel it (Straight up!)
Foreign little broad and I really wanna hit it
I'mma take her to the bird

Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies
I'mma need some more, need some more if I really wanna feel it
Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah
Spend that money fast if I have to (Yeah!)
Make that money back if I had you (It's lit!)
Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Straight up!)
Coordinate the xan with the lean in my Rockstar skinnies (Straight up!)
Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies, yeah (Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah)
Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah

Ain't nobody outchea goin' hard for ya
Outchea goin' hard for ya
You've been workin' out, you're goin' hard for ya
You've been goin' hard for ya
You might fear my ideas
When it's time to pop pills and pop seals (It's lit!)
When I run a fire drill, you're right here
Everytime we drop by, we drop chills (Straight up!)
Tryna tell ya
Ain't nobody outchea goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)
Outchea goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)
You've been workin' out, you're goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)
You've been goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)

Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies
I'mma need some more, need some more if I really wanna feel it
Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah
Spend that money fast if I have to
Make that money back if I had you
Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies
Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacques Webster, Sam Benson, Bryan Simmons
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Through The Late Night

[Kid Cudi:]
Sleep through day, then we play all through the late night
Sleep through day, then we play all through the late night
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, all through the late night
S'il vous plaît, don't you hate, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night

Blimp's soarin', how the hell did I get in this space?
Four in the mornin', how did I get in this place?
Oh it don't matter, got smoke, drink, and I'm runnin' this space
Done contemplatin', I'ma take it in and groove in this case
N, N-Dimethyltryptamine and Lysergic acid diethylamide
The vibes are effervescent, delicious, just how they should be
N, N-Dimethyltryptamine and Lysergic acid diethylamide
The vibes are effervescent, delicious, just how they should be
No sleep in my bed, no sleepin' in my bed
Yeah, then we gon' play, gon' play, gon' until the day
I said no sleep in my bed, no sleepin' in my bed
Yeah, we gon' play, gon' play
Then we'll sleep all through the day
And do it again

[Kid Cudi & Travis Scott:]
Sleep through day, then we play all through the late night
Sleep through day, then we play all through the late night
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, all through the late night
S'il vous plaît, don't you hate, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night

[Travis Scott:]
Day and night, I toss and turn
I keep stressin' my mind, mind
I seek the peace, sometimes I can't restrain
To join a rage at night, come out and play, play
Balance, find your balance
God said it's my talent
Sprinkle a little season on the salad
Relieve my heart of malice, hit my palace
Stroke my cactus, oh, don't wait
Don't play
Play no games like the NBA
Throwin' checks like the NBA
You a ring, you a ring
We shootin' shots like the NRA
Ahh, she jammin' Travis and Kid Cudi
The new Krayzie Bone and Slim Bun B
Ah, shawty, on the scene, pull up on the scene
Sip my tea, he don't Hennessy
Aw save all, take it right
Aw take it all, never light
Aw, had a ball, had a night
Aw, after all, sleep good

[Kid Cudi:]
Sleep through day, then we play all through the late night
Sleep through day, then we play all through the late night
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, all through the late night
S'il vous plaît , don't you hate, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
All through the late night, all through the late night
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SCOTT MESCUDI, JACQUES WEBSTER, KEVIN GOMRINGER, TIM GOMRINGER, RONALD LATOUR, OLADIPO OMISHORE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Beibs In The Trap

[Nav:]
I just poured a 8th in a liter
Throw some jolly ranchers in make it sweeter
Versace my clothes I'm with a white ho
And she snortin' three lines like Adidas
Got a black girl rolling off molly
Got a White bitch snorting up snow
Say she want real niggas in the party
Parents gon' leave the keys to the condo
Bitch close the door, there's shit on your nose (that coca)
She said she want more
She said she want more
So I'mma get more
Yeah I'mma get more
Bitch close the door, the shit on your nose
She said she want more
She said she want more
So I'mma get more
Yeah I'mma get more

I just poured a 8th in a liter
Got a white bitch sniffin' on Bieber
Are you sure you want to party with the demons
Bitch, looking for a phone I ain't seen it
Toe frost bit water no Fiji
Free Stix I'm poured up and I'm leanin'
I got a couple pussy niggas in their feelings
Cause their main bitch wanna come see me
She said she want more
Your girl is a hoe, you need to let go
She f*cks on my bros, she's snorting the snow
Now she's touching her toes
She got Anna Nicole all on her nose
Kick down the door she gon' get locked for sure
She said she want more
But I'mma get more

[Travis Scott:]
Amen, high life, sleepy, night night
Flashes spotlight, pull up, night sky
Peace peace, peace to God
Grind me grind me, strike me, strike me
Indict me, snipe me, swipe it, drop it, trap it (yeah yeah)
I'm lit, lightning, white bitch, she thick
Pulled out in the hood Toyota
Drove back to the hood Lambo
Crushes xans in my soda
Riding around the city with my eyes closed
Crazy girls got it poppin', AOD got it poppin'
Tryna' text my accountant
Ain't no service in the mountains (straight up!)
Won't you come to the bottom (yeah)
Know you heard a lot about 'em
Heard they take that then they change like a mood ring
I watched them take that then they change like a mood ring
Pulled out in the hood Toyota
Drove back to the hood Lambo
Crushed xans, crushed xans in my soda
Riding around the city with my eyes closed

[Nav:]
I just poured a 8th in a liter
Throw some jolly ranchers in make it sweeter
Versace my clothes I'm with a white ho
And she snortin' three lines like Adidas
Got a black girl rolling off molly
Got a White chick rollin' on snow
Say she want real niggas in the party
Parents gonna leave the keys to the condo
Bitch close the door, the shit on her nose (that coca)
She said she want more
She said she want more
So I'mma get more
Yeah I'mma get more
Close the door, the shit on her nose
She said she want more
She said she want more
So I'mma get more
Yeah I'mma get more
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Amir Esmailian, Jacques Webster, Navraj Goraya
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Sdp Interlude

[Travis Scott & Cassie:]
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop...
One
Yeah, yeah
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one, yeah

Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one
Smoke some, drink some, pop one

[Travis Scott:]
Your mama never let you guys outside
She probably still beat your ass
Man, what the...
You a thirsty...
You a thirsty hoe
You lil' small, you lil' skinny
What you doin' with that penis?
Who did that?
Huh? I'mma tell your mama
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Caroline Elizabeth Polachek, Casandra E. Ventura, Ernest Weatherly Greene, Jacques Webster, Ricci Riera
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Sweet Sweet

Cause you're sweet
Sak pasé?, Wah yah seh?
Runnin up, all this cake
Bag it up, then come right away
Cause you're sweet, what's your status?
Might hit your address, if I'm on a mattress
Jet right to you, I can't do no traffic (skrrt, skrrt)
I can't do no lacking (skrrt, skrrt)

Cause you're sweet like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco
Hangin' out with you is a no go
Yeah, yeah, straight up
Cause you're sweet (sweet, sweet) like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco (sweet, sweet)
Hangin' out with you is a no go (sweet, sweet, sweet)
Cause you're sweet

Like my time, like my jokes (sweet)
We been down since in the basement with the most (sweet, yah)
Shout my town, shout my troops
Shout my jeweler, made my chain look like Fruit Loops (yeah, it's lit!)
Come get a taste, come get a scoop
I done made it out the hood through all the hoops (hula hoops)
I done finally found a way to make the loot
Link up all my niggas and my jewelers
Link up, link up, pour my syrup
Bad bitch, yeah they link up
Go bezerk, go do some shit you think of (yah, yah)
Link, link, link, artists link, link, link
Leave my link, link, links
Smoke all my shit, time to start again (yah)

Cause you're sweet like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco
Hangin' out with you is a no go
Yeah, yeah, straight up
Cause you're sweet (sweet, sweet) like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco (sweet, sweet)
Hangin' out with you is a no go (sweet, sweet, sweet)
Cause you're sweet

Cause you're sweet
Sak pasé? Wah yah seh?
Runnin up, all this cake
Bag it up, then come right away

When I ask who bigger
Ain't tryna argue with ya
I'm tryna figure (straight up!)
Who you with, who your team?
What your side?
How you, how you, how you ride (how you ride?)
How you use me to survive (straight up!)
Yeah, cause we up, lit at five
At the crib goin' live, oh so live (yeah)
Eric keep the strippers, order V Live
Order wings, told em' hold the side

Cause you're sweet like cocoa (it's lit)
But all you wanna do is the coco (yeah, yeah)
Hangin' out with you is a no go, yeah, yeah, (straight up)
Cause you're sweet (sweet, sweet) like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco (sweet, sweet)
Hangin' out with you is a no go (sweet, sweet, sweet)
Cause you're sweet

Cause you're sweet like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco
Hangin' out with you is a no go, yeah, yeah, straight up
Cause you're sweet (sweet, sweet) like cocoa
But all you wanna do is the coco (sweet, sweet)
Hangin' out with you is a no go (sweet, sweet, sweet)
Cause you're sweet
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JACQUES WEBSTER, EBONY OSHUNRINDE, KEVIN GOMRINGER, TIM GOMRINGER, SHANE LINDSTROM, MICHAEL DEAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
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Outside

[Travis Scott:]
All my niggas outside
Ain't goin' in
We been hangin' outside
Ain't goin' in

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah automatic
Yeah always got it on me baby, automatic, yeah
Where I'm at is static, but it ain't got traffic, yeah
Push up on me, them boys make you do a backflip
Balance on the beam, yeah balance on the beam, yeah
Do some shit I've never seen
Won't you come out with the team, yeah
Yeah, you might just win a ring, yeah
Why they home on they homescreens?

All my niggas outside
Ain't goin' in
We been hangin' outside
Ain't goin' in

We been hangin' outside, goin' in
Outside not goin' in
Pull up in a lambo or just with the Benz
Checkin' out, never checkin' in
We been outside, not goin' in
Hope you had a mattress when you sleepin' on me
Hope you got some backup if you creepin' on me
Cause just last week I rest in peace'd a homie
Why you do it? Why you switch up?
Was it for the image or for the pictures?
You always seem to show up when I'm at the mixes
Cause you know I'm not myself when I'm off the liquor
Off the lean, it's always better off the lean

All my niggas outside
Ain't goin' in
We been hangin' outside
Ain't goin' in
All my niggas outside

[21 Savage:]
21, 21, 21, 21
All my niggas outside, pillow talkin' sneak dissin'
Get a nigga jaw wide
Beat you baby mama throat so long she say her jaw's tired
Young Savage get a nigga whacked cause I got mob ties, I'm a wise guy
All my niggas in the field
I'm draped in that Biani, I ain't got a deal
Slaughter Gang and PDE, we killin' shit for real
10 bad bitches, suckin dick and eatin' pills
And I keep that Tommy nigga, and I ain't talkin' Hil
And I be on mud, I get mad if it spill
Bitch, I know your baby daddy probably wanna kill
I'm a real nigga, f*ck niggas can't feel
Plus I get inside that bowl and skurt, skurt, skurt
Hit it from the back pull up her skirt
I just copped that Bentley truck I skurt, skurt, skurt
Bitch, I'm outside on the percs, percs, percs

[Travis Scott:]
All my niggas outside
Ain't goin' in
We been hangin' outside
Ain't goin' in
All my niggas outside
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: OZAN YILDIRIM, JACQUES WEBSTER, NISHANTH THAYAPARAN, SHAYAA JOSEPH, LARRY JACKS, SHANE LINDSTROM
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
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Goosebumps

Yeah
7:30 in the night, yeah
Ooh-ooh, ooh

I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah
You ease my mind, you make everything feel fine
Worried 'bout those comments, I'm way too numb, yeah
It's way too dumb, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich
Throw that to the side, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, when you're not around (straight up)
When you throw that to the side, yeah (it's lit)
I get those goosebumps every time, yeah

7-1-3 through the 2-8-1, yeah I'm ridin'
Why they on me?
Why they on me? I'm flyin', sippin' low-key
I be sippin' low-key in Onyx, rider, rider
When I'm pullin' up right beside ya
Pop star, lil' Mariah
When I text, kick game, knowledge
Throw a stack on the Bible
Never Snapchat or took molly
She fall through plenty, her and all her ginnies, yeah
We at the top floor, right there off Doheny, yeah
Oh no, I can't f*ck with y'all, yeah
When I'm with my squad I cannot do no wrong, yeah
Saucin' in the city, don't get misinformed, yeah
They gon' pull up on you (brrt, brrt, brrt)
Yeah, we gon' do some things, some things you can't relate
Yeah, 'cause we from a place, a place you cannot stay
Oh, you can't go, oh, I don't know
Oh, back the f*ck up off me (brrt, brrt, brrt)

I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah
You ease my mind, you make everything feel fine
Worried 'bout those comments, I'm way too numb, yeah
It's way too dumb, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich
Throw that to the side, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, when you're not around
When you throw that to the side, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time

Uh, I wanna press my like, yeah, I wanna press my
I want a green light, I wanna be like
I wanna press my line, yeah
I wanna to take that ride, yeah
I'm gonna press my line
I want a green light, I wanna be like, I wanna press my
Mama, dear, spare your feelings
I'm relivin' moments, peelin' more residual
I can buy the building, burn the building, take your bitch
Rebuild the building just to f*ck some more
I can justify my love for you
And touch the sky for God to stop debatin' war
Put the pussy on a pedestal (ayy)
Put the pussy on a high horse
That pussy to die for
That pussy to die for
Peter Piper, picked a pepper
So I could pick your brain and put your heart together
We depart the shady parts and party hard, the diamonds yours
The coupe forever
My best shot, just might shoot forever like (brrt)

I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah
You ease my mind, you make everything feel fine
Worried 'bout those comments, I'm way too numb, yeah
It's way too dumb, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich
Throw that to the side, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, when you're not around
When you throw that to the side, yeah
I get those goosebumps every time
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daveon Jackson, Kevin Gomringer, Tim Gomringer, Brock F. Korsan, Kendrick Lamar Duckworth, Ronald LaTour, Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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First Take

Don't like what I saw
This life without yours
Despite I was lost
Despite you got flaws
Just let our love play its course
Let you tell it
What's mine is yours, what's yours is yours
All the signs I ignored
I play love like a sport

Yeah, first take
You ain't on time, you were late
When you around me, you're safe (lit)
You can't go off of a hearsay
I know that look on your face
You think you winnin' a race
You think all I do is play (yeah)
I didn't put you in your place
Then why you still here in my place?
Yeah, thought so
Yeah, and also
You think too much, we all know
You think too much, we all know
I ain't tryna go back to war with your morals (yeah)
You can't kill the vibe, it's immortal (straight up)
I ain't buyin' it even though I can afford ya
'Cause I know

Don't like what I saw
This life without yours
Despite I was lost
Despite you got flaws
Just let our love play its course
Let you tell it
What's mine is yours, what's yours is yours
All the signs I ignored
I play love like a sport

Yeah!
This love won't grow 'less we find growth
Wipe down your nose girl, won't you come over?
Let's both find hoes
Let's f*ck them both
But you think too hard, we all know
You think too hard, we all know
So say nothin', nothin'
'Cause you think too hard, we all know
Yeah, you know I'd rather lead than to follow
You and me, mano y mano, baby
'Cause I know, I know

Don't like what I saw (yeah)
This life without yours (yeah, yeah)
Despite I was lost (ayy)
Despite you got flaws (ayy)
Just let our love play its course (oh)
Let you tell it
What's mine is yours, what's yours is yours
(All is yours)
All the signs I ignored (uh, huh)
I play love like a sport
(Like a sport, no, yeah)

Okay, lil mama I still ain't heard from lil mama
We go back to Angliana
When you was studying in college
But I called you and brought you
Out to Santa Monica
Believed in you, I was your sponsor
I got love for you, but I'm not in love
Gave me affection
Girl I was lost, you gave me direction
Went through f*ckin' you with no protection
All my blessings, girl you of of all my blessings
You think I don't care about you
Girl you better call my best friend
I got time to waste
Girl I got time to waste
Girl I cancelled everything
Just to get back on the same page
To finish the story
But you would rather ignore me
Your mama called to check on me
But you won't even pick up the phone
Shit, goddamn you feelin' yourself
Out in Hollywood, you got a nigga with some wealth
You ain't free tonight, I bet he call somebody else
Tryna tell you I'm the last real nigga left
You can hit me if you need help
With your love problems, with your money problems
I just might solve 'em, I just might solve 'em
I just might solve 'em, I just might solve 'em
I just might solve 'em

Just call me
Or you could just pick up the phone, baby
I know, I know you're home, baby
Baby, I know, I know
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacques Webster, Bryson Tiller, Sy Brockington, Travis Peterson, Mandell Strawter, Billy Garcia, Melvin Hough, Rivelino Wouter
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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Pick Up The Phone

[Young Thug & Starrah:]
Yaaah, oh yaaah
Ooooh, Thugger
Yeah, Travis Scott
Thugger, Thugger baby
Yaah

[Travis Scott:]
I pour a four up
I call your hoe up
Just to f*ck her and show her
I just went, got my dough up
Pullin' off and I'm gone!
Then I go and pour four up
Then I roll up that roll up
Then I'm callin' your hoe up
(Like Brrrrr)

Pick up the phone, baby (Like brrrrr)
I know you're home, baby (It's lit!)
I'm in the zone, baby (Straight up!)
I just poured up a four baby (Yeah, yeah)

[Travis Scott & Young Thug:]
Never will I cheat on you
Never will I commit treason
Blowin' a bag on you
Do all of that for no reason
I'm a pull up and murk too
Hittin' the block and I'm bleedin'
Throwing that Rollie on you
I like the way it be freezin'
(Brrrrr)

[Travis Scott:]
Pick up the phone, baby (Like brrrrr)
I know you're home, baby (It's lit!)
I'm in the zone, baby (Straight up!)
I just poured up a four baby (Yeah, yeah)

[Young Thug:]
Pour up a four of that Actavis
Lean like my mothaf*ckin' granny did
Super Bowl ring with big body Benz
I stack it up now I'm just better livin'
Got screws in my mouth, I'm just preppin' it
I'm f*cking this cash up, I'm not celibate
I'm packin' it up like a reverend
I need all this cash, I got hella kids
I'm a play dumb and get left in the middle
Back the f*ck up, you too little
Hit 'em with three like I'm Miller
I don't talk to no man in the middle
I don't talk to no man, I'm just kiddin'
But I did pay my sister's tuition
I feel lucky, I should play the lottery
Walkin' off with it, like Sonny Liston
Mama told me I'm her brightest star
Mama told me don't hate on the law
Because everybody got a job
Because everybody wan' be a star (real shit, real shit)
Please believe every motherf*cker around here wanna be a part
She gon' do anything in her power to be with ya' boy
(Brrrrr)

[Travis Scott:]
Pick up the phone, baby (Like brrrrr)
I know you're home, baby (It's lit!)
I'm in the zone, baby (Straight up!)
I just poured up a four baby (Yeah, yeah)

[Young Thug:]
Never will l cheat on you
Never will I commit treason
Blowin' a bag on you
Do all of that for no reason
I'm a pull up and murk too
Hittin' the block and I'm bleedin'
Throwin' that Rollie on you
I like the way you be freezin'

[Quavo:]
Pick up the phone
Macaulay Culkin' baby, Home Alone
I thought I was right
Then I had to man up, I was wrong
I hate when we fight
She in love with the pipe
I draped her up in ice, I pour my four on ice
Birds in the trap sing Brian McKnight
Percocet and Codeine please don't take my life
She had a dream with Celine
So I bought it twice
Young nigga make it right back tonight
Girl you're so cute and your ass is nice
Drinkin' on four and I'm shootin' dice
Wrist polar bear, Klondike
And I'm loving all races, hell nah don't discriminize
Drinkin' on clean, sanitize
Ostritch seats with the frog eyes
If I ever call your phone baby
Best believe it's only one time
(Brrrrrr)

[Travis Scott:]
Pick up the phone, baby (Like brrrrr)
I know you're home, baby (It's lit!)
I'm in the zone, baby (Straight up!)
I just poured up a four baby (Yeah, yeah)

[Young Thug:]
Never will l cheat on you
Never will I commit treason
Blowin' a bag on you
Do all of that for no reason
I'm a pull up and murk too
Hittin' the block and I'm bleedin'
Throwin' that Rollie on you
I like the way you be freezin'

Pick up the phone (Pick up the phone)
I'm in the zone, pick up the phone, baby
I'm in the zone
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacques Webster, Jeffrey Lamar Williams, Quavious Keyate Marshall, Allen Raphael Ritter, Adam King Feeney, Brittany Talia Hazzard, Anderson Hernandez, Michael George Dean
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, CYPMP
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Lose

[Travis Scott:]
My Lambo gon' skrr, my crib ain't got service
I got shit to lose, that shit make me nervous
I got shit to lose, gotta keep my cool
Gotta watch the dukes, can't let them come through
I got shit to lose
Hold up wait, more to gain, more at stake
I got shit to do
Had to move, with the crew, away from you

Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them

My Lambo gon' skrr, my crib ain't got service
I got shit to lose, that shit make me nervous
I got shit to lose, gotta keep my cool
Gotta watch the dukes, can't let them come through
I got shit to lose
Hold up wait, more to gain, more at stake
I got shit to do
Had to move, with the crew, away from you

[Travis Scott & Cassie:]
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
And I never liked it, and I never liked them
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
And I never liked it, and I never liked them

[Travis Scott:]
You know what, we grew on
We go back like futons and coupons
We too bad, we too wild, we too young
Shake some, my niggas gon' shake some
Fall through and break somethin'
Broad day, and take somethin'
Backwards, I've been livin' backwards
On my mattress, orgies on my mattress
Flashes, dreamin', havin' flashes
Dashin', hopin' I don't crash it

My Lambo gon' skrr, my crib ain't got service
I got shit to lose, that shit make me nervous
I got shit to lose, gotta keep my cool
Gotta watch the dukes, can't let them come through
I got shit to lose
Hold up wait, more to gain, more at stake
I got shit to do
Had to move, with the crew, away from you

[Travis Scott & Cassie:]
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
And I never liked it, and I never liked them
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
And I never liked it, and I never liked them
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
And I never liked it, and I never liked them
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
Steady with the crew, steady with the crew
And you never liked it, and you never liked them
And I never liked it, and I never liked them
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JACQUES WEBSTER, ADAM KING FEENEY, ANDERSON HERNANDEZ, ALLEN RITTER, CASANDRA E. VENTURA
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, CYPMP
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Guidance

And I found out that you're bad for me
I found out that you had someone
Every time I get this drunk
I hope I wake up in another place

I roll up behind it, I wanna try it
Grip on your waist, bust up the place, tantalizin'
You're from the islands, you stay wildin'
I guide, I guide you, like a pilot

Haven't been around this year
I like to see you change your gears
To a motion that's more faster, babe
I'm grippin' like I'm tryna catch up, babe

Come through, follow me
Rumble, follow me
Rollin', follow me
Opt to, follow me
Do you like that? Follow me
Nicest, follow me
Backwoods, follow me
Practice, follow me, yeah
Hop up, it's time for a switch
Lightskinned girls like the hair, man, it come with a twist
Badmon, badmon, yeah you know it come with a risk
Ain't a bouncer, but the way you bouncin'
I might just frisk

I roll up behind it, I wanna try it
Grip up your waist, bust up the place, tantalizin'
You need some guidance, you stay wildin'
I'ma guide you like a pilot

Haven't been around this year
I like to see you change your gears
To a motion that's more faster, babe
I'm grippin' like I'm tryna catch up, babe

I found out that you're bad for me
I found out that you had someone
Every time I get this drunk
I hope I wake up in another place
(Roll up, roll up)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah oh, oh

You silent, you quiet
What happened to the loud talkin'?
All that noise, you done?
Are you finished? Or are you done?
How you been wit your workout business?
Got my subscription
Got my attention
You know my intentions
You know that nobody know our business
God's our witness
Lit like my wrist is
Only like it when you're at your littest

I roll up behind it, I wanna try it
Grip up your waist, bust up the place, tantalizin'
You need some guidance, you stay wildin'
I'ma guide you like a pilot

Haven't been around this year
I like to see you change your gears
To a motion that's more faster, babe
I'm grippin' like I'm tryna catch up, babe

Bop-bop-bop-bop-bop-bop!
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrah!
I roll up, I roll up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jacques Webster, Darren Phillip Fraser, Kashief Hanson
Copyright: Lyrics © TuneCore Inc., Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Wonderful

Yeah, yeah

Oh my, oh my, what a wonderful time
Been a minute since I pulled up outside
Shut it down, yeah, you do that every time
Oh-wee got a feeling you might, yeah

Work it like a stripper, yeah
But you not a stripper, yeah
Dog her down with ya, yeah
Work that nine to five with ya, yeah
After smoke a pound with ya

Oh my, on a vibe, what a wonderful time
Hundred deep all my niggas outside
Valet park when I pull up in the ride
Hoe, it's late you might have to spend the night, yeah

Oh, I love my city late at night, yeah
Oh, I love my bitches when they bite, yeah
Oh, let's call some up and let's get right, yeah
Ohh (yeah)
We just landed in your city, go time
Driving to the venue, like she's seeing no signs
She got all the passes, she don't ever do lines
Bust it like she's single, she ain't wasting no time
You cannot record, that's for the show now
Leave your phone, you get that later on now
Pour that special drink that's for my throat now
And take a sip

Oh my, oh my, what a wonderful time
Been a minute since I pulled up outside
Shut it down, yeah, we do that every time
Ooh-wee got a feeling you might, yeah

Work it like a stripper, yeah
But you not a stripper, yeah
Dog her down with ya, yeah
Work that nine to five with ya, yeah
After smoke a pound with ya

Oh me, oh my
Why they wonderin' who the kid sleeping side?
I been up sleepless late nights
Override yeah, overdrive yeah
(Oh) bag it, bag it up, just bag it up
Yeah, we gon' try this one more again
I been on the edge
Scoping through the lens
These thoughts is on my mind
Got me on the drive
Got me on the ride
To a wonderful time

Oh my, what a wonderful time
Been a minute since I pulled up outside
Shut it down, yeah, we do that every time
Ooh-wee got a feeling you might, yeah
Oh my, what a wonderful time
Been a minute since I pulled up outside
Shut it down, yeah, we do that every time
Ooh-wee got a feeling you might, yeah

Work it like a stripper, yeah
But you not a stripper, yeah
Dog her down with ya, yeah
Work that nine to five with ya, yeah
After smoke a pound with ya, oh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Matthew Samuels, Tyler Williams, Abel Tesfaye, Mike Dean, Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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Back to: Travis Scott


Birds in the Trap Sing McKnight is the second studio album by American rapper Travis Scott.

The album features guest appearances from André 3000, Blac Youngsta, Kid Cudi, Nav, 21 Savage, Kendrick Lamar, Bryson Tiller, Young Thug, Quavo, K. Forest, and the Weeknd.

Birds in the Trap Sing McKnight was supported by three singles: "Wonderful", "Pick Up the Phone", and "Goosebumps".

The album received generally favorable reviews from critics, debuting at number one on the US Billboard 200, earning 88,000 album units in the first week.
Genre(s): Hip hop, trap
Producer(s): Producer Boi-1da, Cardo, Cashmere Cat, Daxz, dF, Frank Dukes, Hit-Boy, Honorable C.N.O.T.E., Illa Jones, Mike Dean, Murda Beatz, Nav, Ricci Riera, Sy Ari Da Kid, T-Minus, TEAUXNY, TM88, Vinylz, WondaGurl
Released: September 2nd, 2016
Year: 2016

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