Peter Piper (feat. G Herbo)

Hey, Jax, this a banger

I'm like, "Nigga, is you cool?" You don't make enough

I only use the money counter 'cause of paper cuts

It probably take me like thirty days to make a buck

I'ma drive the coupe today, lil' brodie take the truck

Peter Piper packed a pack of pounds and he sealed them up

I just cracked a pint of pie and I'm pourin' up

What the fuck wrong with my neck?

This bitch glowin' up

Front end, back, back, back end, I'm showin' up

I'm spendin' front ends, but all the back ends, I put 'em up

If you could put more paper in your pockets, they ain't full enough

Gotta drop a lil' more in your soda, it ain't dark enough

These lame-ass niggas gotta pour out they heart to fuck

All this fuckin' water, my neck look like Noah's Arc or what?

It sound like a lion fightin' every time I start to drunk

I don't think it'll be smart to start with us

Big-ass ten milli' on me, it'll park a bus

Big-ass bankroll on me, I can get you touched

Baby, I ain't with the role play, is we finna fuck?

I'm tryna run up a million dollars

Dropped the eight, poured a four in the Fanta, four in the Crush

Huh, I got pointers in my watch, why you get 'em crushed?

Huh, I had a boater in the pot like, "What you cookin'

Up?" Huh, I'm finna hit a rock brick with a bigger cut

Huh, I can get you what you need, now tell me what you wanted

This food right here go in the blender, not in the oven

Made thirty two days in a row, that's a triple-double

If you can get 'em to my door, I'll pay you for the troubles

If you can get 'em to my door, I'll pay you for the travel

I be done walked out with a ticket like a fuckin' raffle

All these motherfuckin' bricks, I could build a castle

I seen shit you thought wouldn't happen really happenin'

All these niggas really jokes, I sit back and laugh at 'em

You think you could do this shit like me, take a stab at it

I'll put the switch on your ass like your granddaddy

Bitch, I had a quarter brick back when we was wearin' Ballys

I went half on a strike, me and bro was shootin' tallies

I'm like, "Nigga, is you cool?" You don't make enough

I only use the money counter 'cause of paper cuts

It probably take me like thirty days to make a buck

I'ma drive the coupe today, lil' brodie take the truck

Peter Piper packed a pack of pounds and he sealed them up

I just cracked a pint of pie and I'm pourin' up

What the fuck wrong with my neck?

This bitch glowin' up

Front end, back, back, back end, I'm showin' up

Ayy, look

Wanna book me?

Send a hundred racks, it's goin' up

With fifty in the front, another nick when I pull up

Rolls truck, bad bitches jump on dick when I pull up

Grab her face, tell her, "Open up"

Spit unless she stuck

I get vicious when I'm on that Tris, sippin' out the cup

Drink tequila on the mission, this lil' shit hit me tryna fuck

Usually I be chasin' the bag, won't even make time for a nut

I told Chigga I'm gettin' this chicken

I count up a ticket, it give me a rush

I make money in my sleep, but I be barely catchin' Z's

Niggas trollin' on the net, but never gangster when we meet

I be solo like civilians, half a million last week

Look, cuz want another B, I told him let that nigga breathe

I was broke sellin' weed, barely did a stack a week

Now I'm playin' with six figures every time I pack a seed

Turn my nigga Smurk free, I told him get a rack to me

Put me anywhere with gangsters, bet you I adapt with ease

If they got them bales for the low, I'm bringin' back some P's

God forbid this rap shit get slow, I'm in the trap asleep

Got so many tennis chains, I need a racket please

Got so many bracelets, they can't even wrap my sleeve

Got so many bracelets, they can't even fit my sleeve

Red band on a Prestige, yeah, that's how I bleed

Feel like Allen Iverson, my earrings bleedin'

Ghost my fine shit 'cause when she fiend, she a demon

Every line in a nigga rhymes, I really seen it

Seven-nine, that shit still mine and I mean it

Every angle of my lifestyle, I was dreamin'

Winnin' with my team, think you fuckin' with us, I'm like

Nigga, is you cool?

You don't make enough

I only use the money counter 'cause of paper cuts

It probably take me like thirty days to make a buck

I'ma drive the coupe today, lil' brodie take the truck

Peter Piper packed a pack of pounds and he sealed them up

I just cracked a pint of pie and I'm pourin' up

What the fuck wrong with my neck?

This bitch glowin' up

Front end, back, back, back end, I'm showin' up

Hey, Jax, this a banger