Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Peyote, artist - ATMOSPHERE. Album song Sad Clown Bad Year, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.07.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Peyote |
She goes by the nickname Peyote, her real name is Iris |
Appearance doesn’t matter so I’m not gonna describe it |
She was a dancer down at edit this portion |
I can’t name the spot, they don’t merit the promotion |
But I been there look like any strip club |
Everybody slicked up trying to get they dick sucked |
Smoke and mirrors, you know fake magic tricks |
Like these people didn’t come here just for ass and tits |
But this one in particular was popular with midlife ballers |
And white collar out of towners |
Plus it attracted athletic individuals that came here to play against |
The twins and the timber wolves |
Safe to say she made the rent good |
Twenty years of age a spot up in Kentwood |
She had the car, the dog, and the kitchen sink |
She had a drug-free body didn’t even drink |
She had a sister who wouldn’t stop giving her shit |
For dropping out of art school to be a stripper |
Iris was sick and tired of the questions |
But big sis didn’t understand the perspective |
She knows her little sister isn’t a slut |
But she objectifies herself and contributes to the gluttony |
Now here’s Iris stealin' from the devil to buy some time |
To make life something special |
Where did you go? |
When did you fall? |
That little one, you all grown up |
Oh how they’ve grown, those days are done |
Under the gun, now you are dealt |
Where did you go? |
When did you fall? |
That little one, you all grown up |
Oh how they’ve grown, those days are done |
Look at us, who you to judge? |
Her oldest sisters name was Jocelyn |
Awfully slim, on a diet of bottled water and oxygen |
She lives on Hiawatha by the Target |
And she dates a photographer, that’s how she started modeling |
She ain’t no supermodel, this is Minneap for that you’d have to move to Chicago |
Or maybe LA or NY |
Now she does what she does here and she gets by |
And her boyfriend gets a little currency |
Taking photos for advertising agencies |
Now he’s gonna steal from the devil |
Stick it to the man, revolutionary rebel |
One afternoon after work he went to the strip club |
Just to loosen up that shirt |
He and a couple job associates are gonna sink them drinks |
Like they about to be extinct |
Never met his girlfriends little sister |
But she recognized him from cell phone pictures |
Any other circumstances she’d have hollered |
But topless in heels is a little bit awkward |
Eventually his friends leave |
And when he gets up, she grabs him by the coat sleeve |
Too drunk to catch what she says |
But he did offer her three hundred on some head, like |
When you do wrong it makes me want to do right |
It also cancels out the guilt that makes the load feel light |
It also gives some leverage to the morally impaired |
So make mistakes for us to hold over your hair |