Peache$

[Produced By Curtiss King] [Intro – Murs] 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 [Verse 1] 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 [Hook] 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 [Verse 2] 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 [Hook] [Verse 3] 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