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
Fuck 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