This is a song about "Cooking apple"

That you looking like an angel-sent from the heavens, god bless your every angle

Ill tie yo little ass to the pool table and shoot the cube ball to yo adams apple

What the fuck i look like, saying i'm sorry

But till then i'll be waiting under the apple tree

Cooking up raps like this shits stew

The boa know they loving the crew

So back off and unpack your lunchbox grab the apple sauce

They rap they're ass off and don't nobody like their songs

Cooking in dexters laboratory, hoping i can tell a story

Nigga so focused, shout out that ? a quarter six forty

The mirror's screaming at me saying i'm emmi lola's son

You cooking for angels, always a legend, rockin heaven

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

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