Peter (feat. Tech N9ne)

Peter picked a peck of pickled peppers, how the fuck I pick a ho? It's like tic-tac-toe, I keep my exes in a row How'd we become enemies? I really don't know I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not a sorry-ass Good morning, ho, can I get you a water? I like a degenerate who can regenerate Liquor be wakin' me up with the scaries I gotta go hibernate to get that threat away People are drivin' around with their friend I'ma knock on each window and tell 'em their friend is fake I find it funny you talkin' shit 'bout all your homies And don't think they doing the very same All of your boyfriends are cheating and All of your girlfriends know who gon' be fuckin' them after you Dick got a mind of its own I be hitting the bathroom to get him to simmer his attitude I used to live on a cul-de-sac But I don't like being cornered, I'd rather an avenue I lay a puss on a puss like a platypus Platter the puss, look what I put my palette through Scary day when they call a killer rapper through You go then like Carrie they're gonna laugh at you Crack a few like the comedians have to do Rap a new, then I got a platinum plaque to view You got jack to do, then you a sack of poo Abracadabra from me, get the smackaroo Half of you capping, no stacking is wack of you Yappin', your crap is a fat "Yabba Dabba Doo" Penny-pushing a percentage they pay to us Missing more money, machinery may fool you Don't let the dominant Devil delay you, bruh (Bruh) I convey to you (Bruh) in the face to bust Think you standing on business, you lay to dust All because you made no moment to make mula So superior, slip and I slay you, bruh Bomb begets big Beirut blood I just told that chubby rapper "Hit the gym, you weigh too much" (Cheah) I just told that Christian rapper "Shut up, bitch, you pray too much" (Cheah) I just told that syllable rapper "Dork, you sayin' way too much" I just told his model girlfriend "Throw it up", she ate too much (Hold the fuck up) Peter picked a peck of pickled peppers, how the fuck I pick a ho? It's like tic-tac-toe, I keep my exes in a row How'd we become enemies? I really don't know I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not a sorry-ass Tic-tac-toe, I keep my exes all in line Talk about me but I can hear it from behind Did a number on her, but I still gave her her prime I just made a ten do a split, is she now a five? Ayy, you get the murder from Nina All over the planet, I'm pushin' it right at the satellite Thinkin' 'bout pushin', I'm off in the cushion And me and my lady, we usin' a rag a night Not the mineral, genitals had a fight I'm in the middle, not little my appetite Then I'm bustin' on through like a maga might I got a friend like a good Abba Zabba bite All of my homies are fake And we truly got nothing in common except that I'm also fake I put my kids on her face Then I leave just to let them discuss what to get me for Father's Day She used to love me and now she might want me to die But she always know that I'm a call away Every time I wanna kill myself I try distracting myself in the mall with a shoppin' day Body so sensitive, she like a hair trigger Plus a party in her back like a mullet If I do crash the car I might just build me a cabin with it, the interior's wooden I'm tryin' to find me an older woman But today I'm in the twenty-two like a bullet I tried becomin' the friend of a rapper He ended up hitting his girlfriend, I couldn't I make 'em move when I'm playin' the groove I get them in the mood and the people, they love it I got a new one that's coming your way in the summer I really just gave you a nugget Fuck it, it'll be so good to hear it I know all the people are sick of the rubbish I bet all the women that hear it Are gonna be begging for the Tecca Nina to plug it Pissed the punks are pairing me with peons I pee on 'em, predict a flow (Cheah) Speaking of flow, I got the type that really rake in the dough (Cheah) Raimi like as in Sam I get the evil dead with my four Five Ninas live back with Token, go (Cheah) Peter picked a peck of pickled peppers, how the fuck I pick a ho? It's like tic-tac-toe, I keep my exes in a row How'd we become enemies? I really don't know I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not a sorry ass— Tic-tac-toe, I keep my exes all in line Talk about me, but I can hear it from behind Did a number on her, but I still gave her her prime I just made a ten do a split, is she now a five? (Hold the fuck up) I just told that loser rapper, "Make a friend, you have no bros" I just told that ho Canadian rapper, "Pussy, go back home" I just told that thirty-five year old rapper "Don't lie about your age" I just told that label head to let that rapper out his cage Losin' respect for the people I used to look up to Bro, don't meet your heroes, they're cornballs I'm tryna become a girl 'cause when you catch a girl in a lie She convince you it's your fault Token left both of her legs shakin' so much They gave out at work and she left with the floor crawl People love tellin' a joke about me Like I won't be a legend the day that the Lord call