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