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Peachtree Video (MV)




Performed By: BabyTron
Language: English
Length: 2:26
Written by: James Johnson III




BabyTron - Peachtree Lyrics




Caught a play in Belleville, off Van Buren and Haggerty
In that RAV4, glovebox, hunnid racks at least
Back to back wins, my mans score then he pass to me
If the vibe off, I'ma grab torch and blast the heat
Finna go and grab my passport, leave for half a week
Punching up left my hand sore, Mister Jam And Beep
Two hunnid something on that dashboard, I might crash the Jeep
In that Trackhawk like a Blackhawk, I'm sticked up
Ain't even take the tags off, the pants cost six plus
In here smacked off a damn log, I only hit Runtz
Scam talk, unky getting grams off, he whipped up
Out in ATL, all the signs saying Peachtree
Three of yeah, turn my cream soda into peach tea
Cheat code activated, nah, you can't beat me
Five percent tint, Tron Cena, you can't see me
Only headshots, you better use that vest as a hat
Lil Uzi, foreign sneaks every step, that's a rack
F*ck every check I make, it's bout every check I stack
Could've been in the streets stressed, blessed that I rap
7.62s give yo Scat Pack some hydraulics
Slam dunk a jam pack of 201s just like Giannis
I got a milli' on the way, I bet my life on it
Doggy got a Rollie tick-tocking in here, time bombing
In high school, was too flashy like Aquille Carr
I'll take it there or shoot that bitch like a skilled guard
Doggy went and finally got a stick, now he feel hard
I found out who to trust, back still scarred
Might be mad, never sorry, I feel Yeat halfway
Me, Dee, and Stan back to back in three Lamb' thangs
Do the dash, we in first, ain't seen last place
I poured a one, I was only sleep halfway
In that foreign thang, it sound just like a pterodactyl
Zero down, five 12s, I just grabbed a pair of apples
Shot dawg, he was two-fifty, wasn't fair to grapple
Feeling like Houdini, I could make it out a pair of shackles
High as hell on a Delta flight, in the air traveling
I might spend a dub on the kicks to go and air mag it
First it's up then it's on the floor like a care package
Doggy said he can't stand us? We'll throw a chair at him
I'm in the jungle with the lion, bears, and wolves
Take the trigger off yo gun, boy, you scared to pull
What's up with that? You always bitching up
Don't even ask what's in my double cup, bitch, it's a six of mud
Red bottoms on, I'm euro stepping in here, dripping blood
Pockets got they ass beat, now they looking crippled up
That mean they full of blue
Rap star, I got way more pull than you
Hunnid rounder on me just to show him he ain't bulletproof
Doggy pulled out a bag of weed but it was full of boof
Call my shooter Melo, told him when he get hooded, shoot
Young as hell, they mad I'm doing shit that they couldn't do
I took an L as a lesson, now I can't lose
You in that one whip, I'm sick that you can't zoom
Unky standing in the trap, sick he can't fool
You on the right side, I went and took the fast lane, dude
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Caught a play in Belleville, off Van Buren and Haggerty
In that RAV4, glovebox, hunnid racks at least
Back to back wins, my mans score then he pass to me
If the vibe off, I'ma grab torch and blast the heat
Finna go and grab my passport, leave for half a week
Punching up left my hand sore, Mister Jam And Beep
Two hunnid something on that dashboard, I might crash the Jeep
In that Trackhawk like a Blackhawk, I'm sticked up
Ain't even take the tags off, the pants cost six plus
In here smacked off a damn log, I only hit Runtz
Scam talk, unky getting grams off, he whipped up
Out in ATL, all the signs saying Peachtree
Three of yeah, turn my cream soda into peach tea
Cheat code activated, nah, you can't beat me
Five percent tint, Tron Cena, you can't see me
Only headshots, you better use that vest as a hat
Lil Uzi, foreign sneaks every step, that's a rack
F*ck every check I make, it's bout every check I stack
Could've been in the streets stressed, blessed that I rap
7.62s give yo Scat Pack some hydraulics
Slam dunk a jam pack of 201s just like Giannis
I got a milli' on the way, I bet my life on it
Doggy got a Rollie tick-tocking in here, time bombing
In high school, was too flashy like Aquille Carr
I'll take it there or shoot that bitch like a skilled guard
Doggy went and finally got a stick, now he feel hard
I found out who to trust, back still scarred
Might be mad, never sorry, I feel Yeat halfway
Me, Dee, and Stan back to back in three Lamb' thangs
Do the dash, we in first, ain't seen last place
I poured a one, I was only sleep halfway
In that foreign thang, it sound just like a pterodactyl
Zero down, five 12s, I just grabbed a pair of apples
Shot dawg, he was two-fifty, wasn't fair to grapple
Feeling like Houdini, I could make it out a pair of shackles
High as hell on a Delta flight, in the air traveling
I might spend a dub on the kicks to go and air mag it
First it's up then it's on the floor like a care package
Doggy said he can't stand us? We'll throw a chair at him
I'm in the jungle with the lion, bears, and wolves
Take the trigger off yo gun, boy, you scared to pull
What's up with that? You always bitching up
Don't even ask what's in my double cup, bitch, it's a six of mud
Red bottoms on, I'm euro stepping in here, dripping blood
Pockets got they ass beat, now they looking crippled up
That mean they full of blue
Rap star, I got way more pull than you
Hunnid rounder on me just to show him he ain't bulletproof
Doggy pulled out a bag of weed but it was full of boof
Call my shooter Melo, told him when he get hooded, shoot
Young as hell, they mad I'm doing shit that they couldn't do
I took an L as a lesson, now I can't lose
You in that one whip, I'm sick that you can't zoom
Unky standing in the trap, sick he can't fool
You on the right side, I went and took the fast lane, dude
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: James Johnson III
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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