Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Peache$, artist - Curtiss King
Date of issue: 18.03.2014
Song language: English
Peache$ |
I want to send this one out real quick to the motherfuckers that always think |
it’s them |
Oh it’s them |
But if it’s always them, then it’s probably you |
Motherfucker |
They hopped up in the car, destination ATL |
She was going down to dance, him he had some weight to sell |
They’d been best friends almost 20 years |
They made a pact to get the fuck up out of here |
It was zero hope, it was so much pain |
He did some shady shit, got ran up out the dope game |
She the type to fuck her best friend, man with no shame |
They off to reinvent themselves where no one knew their name |
First stop was Vegas, so he could move a little work |
Then they hit the 40 east, smoking good, blowing purp |
Took turns driving, tried to make it straight through |
Until they got pulled over by the state troop |
Lucky she was driving, she got to plead her case |
Undid her blouse, threw some cleavage in his face |
She giggled, he gave a couple corny pickup lines |
Of course he let her go with just a warning this time |
That night, they arrived in the ATL |
Headed straight to College Park, checked into a motel |
47 bucks a night, they had enough for two weeks |
Took a shower, went to eat, now it was time to hit the streets |
You, you can’t run away from you |
You are who you are no matter where the fuck you move |
You can’t hide from the truth, and you can’t run from it |
Eventually my nigga you gon have to face what’s coming |
Bring the same bullshit to a brand new day |
And get the same kind of fun in a brand new way |
They say that life ain’t fair, but it’s really rather simple |
It won’t be there when you get there if you don’t take it with you |
Dropped her off at Goosebumps, off of |
Then he took the 85 to his homie’s weed spot |
Mission was to help his homie make the transition |
From green to that white, he had the keys to the ignition |
Dope up in the door panel, he hopped up in the kitchen |
And in less than a week, he was working, he was whipping |
But you don’t open up a dope spot without permission |
Now the local niggas tripping and they coming for commission |
They pulled up in a new drop, bumping that Guwop |
Parked at his new spot, lit it up with two yawks |
Niggas hit the floor like they was doing burpees |
White tee looking like he spilled a cherry slurpy |
Almost died in LA for doing some bad business |
Bout to die in the A for doing some bad business |
Knocking on death’s door, no Jehovah’s witness |
Lying in a pool of blood, now he praying for forgiveness |
She dancing at the club, her new name peaches |
Making money cause she flyer than these country beaches |
At least that’s what she think, her pussy just as pink |
Walking round backstage like her shit don’t stink |
The other girls got tired of her acting Hollywood |
They held her down and cut her face up pretty good |
She left the ER, stitches for her three scars |
Guess who she seen on her way to the car? |
Her homeboy shot up, laying on a stretcher |
Blood dried up all round his mouth, looking like some ketchup |
They ran away from home to escape all the drama |
But no matter where you run you never escape karma |