Peek a Boo (REMIX)

I told Mr. Krab to take me off that grill and let me cook for real
Spongebob and Patrick in this bitch for real
This is how we pop out down in Bikini Bottom
Yeah

Ooh, ooh, peek-a-boo, who's that sliding down your block
Oh look, it's me and the crew
Boatmobile ain't got a roof, got em hanging out the side ready to shoot
Lil' bitch, this ain't nothing new, this how the Krusty Krab do

Here come the sponge and the star, speeding through traffic, just bobbing and weaving
I roll down the window to let out them demons who toting them poles, they be itching to beam em
I come up from the bottom, you see me, I promise that if you get caught in bikini
We'll up it and blow em away, ain't no wish or a genie
I guess you all have forgotten you need me
Guess who back
Guess who back
Look, it's Patrick with the strap
Run before I get your ass
Going dumb blowing a bag
Ain't on top, you know that's cap
Pull the trigger, it blow back
Send you where you can't go back
That's a fact
Ain't no pretending, we don't ever cap
My circle's small, there ain't never been cracks
We only showing up if we get cash
My money never fold, no, it just stacks
Coming at me, then you come at the Krab
That is the beef that you don't wanna have
Ain't mean to flex wasn't trying to brag
But if you pop out, we put you in a bag, like

Ooh, ooh, peek-a-boo, who's that sliding down your block
Oh look, it's me and the crew
Boatmobile ain't got a roof, got em hanging out the side ready to shoot
Lil' bitch, this ain't nothing new, this how the Krusty Krab do

They switching the beat like a cypher
I fuck her and dip If I don't really like her
She want me to pay her just because I pipe her
Can someone explain why she acting like Piper?
There ain't a purse that I ever would buy her
The streets is the place that you find her
If I touch a mic, then I catch it on fire
The team going up like a bubble get higher, yeah
Hanging with Mrs. Puff Puff Pass
Playing your track, what the fuck is that?
Yeah, you can never touch my swag
No, better stay the fuck back
Or you get popped like my bubble buddy
The racks on your head ain't no subtle money
This shit ain't a joke, there ain't nothing funny
Try, but you can't get the struggle from me
Now I did that
Lived that
Was down bad got my lick back
I hit the gas and she sit back
As I grip that
Thick thigh by her hip tat
That butterfly by her thick ass
Top down as we zip past
When its demon time, I switch back
Look

Alright, that's enough
Get back on the grill, boy