Penny
I took that bitch to Ruth Chris, I heard a nigga eats at Wendy’s
I’m a real nigga, I can’t wear no gold unless they came from the [?]
[cont.] We gon’ stick you up
Like 2Pac, nigga, hit ’em up
These niggas tough on the Internet
Gettin’ that pussy, I’m killin’ that
I’m not just a rapper, I’m livin’ that
[Verse 2]
Shawty said she want that dick, I told that bitch to wait one minute
These niggas broke, I heard these niggas shoppin’ J.C. [Verse 1]
Jumped out the Porsche, got to it
Choppa on me, bitch I shoot like I’m Cupid
Model bitch, and she gon’ blow me like hookah
All these diamonds, bitch I look like a jeweler
Rollie froze, bitch it came out the cooler
Tech 9, bitch it came with a cooler
I got shooters that’ll shoot at your shooter
Bitch you broke, you eatin’ noodles and oodles
I got a bad bitch, workin’ Hooters
Bitch I get the check, and you know I blew it
21 gang, chain hangin’, blangin’
Jewish lawyers, give a fuck about that rangin’
Seinfeld, niggas frontin’ like Kramer
Put you on the news, you wanna be famous
Zero six, bitch you know that I claimed it
I jumped out the Porsche and broke my ankle
I’m [?] the bud when I cook it up
Your main bitch want me to pick her up
I nut in her face, she gon’ lick it up
Your jewelry shinin’?

Lyrics Lil Yachty – Peek a boo

Ricky Racks
Peek a boo, woo!
Peek-a-boooo.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uhhh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, b*tch versuri-lyrics.info
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
Lil Boat
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

Red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot
On his nose like Rudolph
Pull up to the scene, all white with the roof off
Take that lil’ b*tch to the Ruth Chris
f*ck her, then f*ck on her sister, I’m ruthless
Chill on the 6 when I’m f*ckin’ on poochie
That b*tch was ugly, but pus*y on smoothie (wet)
Play with that kitty like hello
Took a step back then I bust it, I bust it, I bust it like Melo
Aiming at you and your fellows
My new b*tch yellow
She blow that d*ck like a cello
f*ck her then send that b*tch home on the metro
Oohhhh, young nigga fly like a pigeon
Versace frames, they be hidin’ my vision
Make sure all my niggas eat, that’s the mission
Emotion, I’ma go get it, go get it, I got it.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek a boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

Open your eyes, b*tch you see all this money
Made that lil’ b*tch tape a brick to her stomach
You not the gang, we don’t kick it or punt it
Just bought the Wraith and I revved it tectonic
Look at the numbers, mechanics ain’t frontin’
I came from the lint, went to jail, I got punished, ooh
Pourin’ a four, Freddy Kreuger, wow
My niggas turn barracuda
You cappin’, I came from trappin’
I used to have the dope stashed in the cabinet (dope!)
Mama couldn’t tell me s**t, where was my daddy? (Mom)
Look at my Patek, I’m flexin’, I’m petty (I’m petty)
I f*cked the pus*y the first time I met it
Won’t give you no credit, you ate it, spaghetti
I cook the brick, cut the brick with machetes
Married the money, the b*tch wasn’t ready, uh, uhhh.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peeka boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

New grey drop top Audi, 2013, yeah
White coco, butterfly wings, 2k17
Ice (ice), came out the machine (ice)
Came out the machine (ice baby)
Draco, Uzi, Tommy gun, SK (Tommy gun), all machines, brrrt
Yeah, hey, pull up on the side of ’em, skrrt
Let the clip ride on ’em
Ayy, f*ck 12, open fire on ’em (f*ck 12)
Open up fire on ’em (f*ck 12)
Yeah, don’t tuck in my chain (nah)
I’m with the gang (gang,) hit you with range
Scattering showers, here come the rain
Icy Hot sleeve, these niggas in pain, hey.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek a boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

Left wrist white, it’s the Patek (Philippe)
Bad white b*tch with a fatty (unique)
Smokin’ on cookies from granny (trees)
Pocket rocket, go go gadget (go go)
I make a play, Madden (John)
I know it was some speculation ’bout who the one
But we invented the dabbin’ (dab)
f*ck it, we just let ’em have it (have it)
Draco for niggas with static (brrt, static)
I can do magic and make me a rabbit
With usin’ my karats (ice, woah)
Just like the package, I’m drinkin’ on Actavis, expensive habits (Actavis, mud)
Yellow b*tch, Pikachu (b*tch)
Cameltoe peekin’ at you (look at you)
Peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-booo.
Lil Yachty lyrics
Video boo

[Intro]
Hello?
Hello?
Who?

[Pre-Hook]
Ring, ring, ring, homie whose this?
New number, homie whose this?
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
Last year I had the four door
This year I’m on some coupe shit

[Hook]
But homie when the ball drop
Yo homie when the ball drop
Word to God I’m on some new shit
Word to God I’m on some new shit

[Verse 1]
New Years Resolution
Stop praising sucka niggas that ain’t do shit
Fresher guns I ain’t shoot shit
Stop telling lies I’m the truth bitch
Way before the deal I was loopy
Bakin for the cash money like you’re Tunechi
Might do the 84 drug dealer Gucci
Went stupid in this spot but we made a movie

[Pre-Hook]
Ring, ring, ring, homie whose this?
New number, homie whose this?
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
Last year I had the four door
This year I’m on some coupe shit

[Hook]
But homie when the ball drop
Yo homie when the ball drop
Word to God I’m on some new shit
Word to God I’m on some new shit

[Verse 2]
New Years Resolution
Bands to the letters is the only resolution
How much in the bank? Who stop, we just shoot it
Everything good in my pocket. Boy I do this!
We just spendin’ all that extra
Presidential Rollie but I kept the bezel regular
She ain’t fuck you or your homies cause you’re regular
You the type to bug on ya bitch cause she next to us

[Pre-Hook]
Ring, ring, ring, homie whose this?
New number, homie whose this?
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit. (resolution)
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
Last year I had the four door
This year I’m on some coupe shit

[Hook]
But homie when the ball drop
Yo homie when the ball drop
Word to God I’m on some new shit
Word to God I’m on some new shit

[Jim Jones]
Vamp life
(I got that money)
You know what they say
Trap jumping
When it get to hot in the kitchen, uh
What you cooking? Chicken or fish?
(I don’t wanna hear you niggas talking about no more work)
How many pots on the stove?

[Hook: Cashout]
I got the money and I got the pack
(Got that pack)
I drop a deuce in then I bring it back
(Bring it right back)
Drop a four in it then drop [?]
They love when I be cooking up the blow
In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
Yeah
I got the money and I got the sack
(Got that sack)
I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back
In the kitchen

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
I got four pots going and a crock pot too
Cooked four quarters and I got back two
Want fishscale? And I got that too
But I’m dry right now
Nigga stop back through
Talking ’bout cooking the whiter shade
Nigga’s be using the microwave
They booked ’em and took ’em in right away
He might never see the light of day
The walls in my kitchen all yellow
So I put the coke in the fridge like it’s Jello
You know you got to guard the kitchen
So I keep shooters in New York like Carmello
I be cooking that shit like it’s Ruth Chris
Cooking that shit to a new whip
Look at that shit while I’m hitting that shit
Now I’m whipping that shit like its Cool Whip
Traffic, compression then stretch it
To buy it we don’t need to test it
If it ain’t about money don’t stress it
Put the Tec to a nigga like a message
Still cooking coke like five stars
Young dope boy with five cars
All cash nigga how be buy ours
Yeah we live fast and we die hard

[Hook]
I got the money and I got the pack
(Got that pack)
I drop a deuce in then I bring it back
(Bring it right back)
Drop a four in it then drop [?]
They love when I be cooking up the blow
In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
Yeah
I got the money and I got the sack
(Got that sack)
I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back
In the kitchen

[Verse 2: Hell Rell]
Ruger!
Man I got the money and I got the pack
You know a Ruger to this little light-skinned bitch
He ain’t never gotta buy
(Hey baby)
All I gotta do is look at my shooter and he ‘gon pop the strap
Uptown with the mother-fuckin’ killers is where you’ll find me at
Might cook a whole brick with my gun on me
Shoot my old man if he run on me
Bury me in all gold
At least put a mother-fucking ton on me
Man these nigga’s ain’t living right
Don’t be suprised if you got a [?] homie
I brought some real money out tonight
In case niggas front on me
In my kitchen
I’m in love in my kitchen
When my hand start to itchin’ then them bricks get to flippin’
Bought a house with ten bathrooms, because I stay shittin’
Nigga’s look funny then my shooters start hittin’
(Hittin’)

[Hook]
I got the money and I got the pack
(Got that pack)
I drop a deuce in then I bring it back
(Bring it right back)
Drop a four in it then drop [?]
They love when I be cooking up the blow
In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
Yeah
I got the money and I got the sack
(Got that sack)
I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back
In the kitchen

[Verse 3: Philthy Rich]
Uh-huh
It’s Philthy nigga
I do!
Look

I say now forty birds in my caravan
This forty on me got a kick-stand
I’m in love with the kitchen nigga
Tell the hoe do the dishes nigga
(Ay, clean up bitch!)
Two stoves and eight pots
Two niggas cooking eight blocks
The [?] from foot heels to [?] that’s eight blocks
In the kitchen like culinary
These nigga’s actors like Tyler Perry
Ain’t never move no kilos
Couldn’t find you one like Nemo
My whole hood been locked up for trafficking, doing life nigga
On 580 doing eighty nigga with an eighty pack of that white shit
Thirty-six and the whole whammy
In a cereal box stuffed in the cabinet
Right behind all the baking soda
If you cook it right you might take it over
Fish-scale, my lips sealed, I’ll never tell what I don’ seen
Bag it up, put a thousand grams on the triple-beam
(It’s Philthy)