Peach Cobbler

I had to hustle to get out the way
Get to the money got no time to play
Fridge was bare, Fuck we gon eat today
All I had was roaches up on my plate
Need the money and I need it now
Gettin to it, haters heated now
I know they just wanna see me down
Make enough money to feed the town
Glowin up, they can't believe it now
I'm just tryna make OG nem proud
Watched my homie lay there bleedin out
Pistol on me for a reason now
Niggas ain't steppers, they be in the house
R. Kelly yo bitch, I'll pee in her mouth
She throw a fit when I'm leavin out
Bitch I got plays, bitch I got routes
They do it for rank, they do it clout
I do it for love, I still need the money
I do it for fam, I do it for blood
Even the ones tryna take it from me
Slow ya role, you mistaken homie
Roll wit hoes that ain't fake and phony
Yea dis shit sound sacred, don't it
Eatin steaks now I hate bologna
Married the money, no matrimony
Me and my babies need matching Rolies
Get my wrist sicker than Mic Foley
You lil niggas ain't shit, getcha big homie
Shawty lying if she say dat she didn't know me
Bitch it's all me, it wasn't written for me
Black van fulla niggas in skullies
Rappers lyin, softer than Teletubbies
Hate online, but in real life they love me
To keep it short, niggas pussies in public
When you high as this it's nothin above it
Realest nigga and dats word to my mother
Twenty-four shots, take that for my brother
Killin dis shit til they set him free
Do it for Hoyne, 71, 7 deuce, and 7 3, Yeah

Who da fuck gon stop us
Boy ya lookin at a monster
Well connected like a mobster
Fettucini wit the lobster
Nuttin but shootas on da roster
Blowin dope like a rasta
Niggas sweet, peach cobbler
Boy my streets like Contra

Back again, niggas thought it was over
Rollin again cuz I hate being sober
Gotta get it, getcho ass off the sofa
Game face like a nigga play poker
Hit the A just so I can hit Strokers
Bounce in da morning so I can refocus
You new rap niggas really just hopeless
Give it up, you know Sosa da dopest
Niggas play crazy like they ain't know dis
Fuck it, I'ma play along wit em
That boy ain't living what he be rappin bout
That's why I can't do no song wit him
Call da doc, Fuck is wrong wit em
Lemme check these niggas temps
Need a fountain dat say The World Is Yours
And my name on a blimp
Niggas lame and they simp
Can't fuck wit me on my worst day
Rather listen to they instrumentals
Motherfuck what the words say
Bitch I was the man in da third grade
Now a nigga reached king status
Hit her once then I disappeared
That's the first time the bitch seen magic
Niggas ain't trappers, they fiends and addicts
Low key, won't catch me in traffic
Niggas switch, I done seen it happen
When it's yo homie it be da saddest
Fuck niggas make me da maddest
Act like they got it but pockets be hurtin
Gotta be talkin a big, big bag
For me to offer my services
What I'm rocking you ain't heard of this
Stand tall, fuck the nervousness
Niggas on some Steve Urkel shit
On a time budget, gotta murk em quick
Case closed, yeah da verdict in
I'm da man behind da bars with the pen
Niggas soft, thicken up ya skin
Bitch it's all about the dividends

Who da fuck gon stop us
Boy ya lookin at a monster
Well connected like a mobster
Fettucini wit the lobster
Nuttin but shootas on da roster
Blowin dope like a rasta
Niggas sweet, peach cobbler
Boy my streets like Contra



Credits
Writer(s): Rashaun White
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link