Nightmare on Peachtree Street
Nightmare on Peachtree Street

BABY GRAVY, Yung Gravy, bbno$ ft. Freddie Dredd - Nightmare on Peachtree Street Lyrics

1

Nightmare on Peachtree Street Lyrics

Bro, I gotta get sponsored by other big bro, little of a plan, you know what I'm saying?
I gotta call that shit guy of her self-defense, baby, got some money

(Freddie) Shows (Gravy)
Where they at? (Vegas)
Sold out (Baby, yeah) (dwilly, I'm scared)
Tour the world (yeah), get the bag (yeah)
Get the money (yeah), pipe your mom (yeah)
She's so lovely (yeah)
Never wife a thot, I love the money (woo)
Out in San Diego with some boys
Three days no sleep, can't keep poised (uh)
Uh, hold up

Real short, real stout, no tea cup (woo)
I ain't even gon' fuck, no pre-nup (nah)
Seed planter, Mr. Peanut
Got grass, ch-ch-chia
Fuck contacts, I don't wanna see ya' (no)
Splash, onomatopoeia (splash)
I'm colder, I can guarantee ya'
My whole damn closet zebra
My bitch delicious, your bitch fictitious
Gravy so clean, you should see my dishes
Peep how I live think I got three wishes, endless ice, bread, bitches (ooh)
I-I ain't never lackin', I be gettin' to the action, I'm finessin' with a passion
President of smashin', five time champion
Gravy came through and put fashion out of fashion

Da-da-da, da-da
We pull up, they say, "Ooh-la-la"
Da-da-da, da-da

Steppin' on the bitch, I ain't wifin' no fuck-hoe
What the Freddie needs is a goddamn get-hoe
Lurkin' in the dark, I ain't need no sight
That fool on a goddamn bike
Boom from the Glock and I take his shit
What the Fred get, lil' money and a Bic
Spark my dark, then I head into the park
Goddamn, boy, ain't got no heart
Miss my home, is it ever so deep?
Walkin' in the heat while I bump J's beats
I'ma hang you from a noose from Gravy height
Got no feel, bitch, better come and fight
Too dope, got rope in my backpack
Lil' bitch wanna suck on my nutsack
Got steeze, oh please, give me all that
Owe me money, I'ma need some fuckin' cashback
Bitch wanna suck on my goddamn Peter
Understand hoe, I'm a goddman leader
Slob on my knob, I'm gonna come cleanin'
Turn around, baby girl, I wanna squeeze it
I'm cold in the club, got your bitch shiverin'
Stole your hoe like the goddamn a Bling Ring
Backpack full of that loot
I'm so petty, I'ma thief your boots (boots)

(Freddie) Shows (Gravy)
Where they at? (Vegas)
Sold out (yeah)
Tour the world (yeah), get the bag (yeah)
Get the money (yeah), pipe your mom (yeah)
She's so lovely (yeah)
Never wife a thot, I love the money (woo)
Out in San Diego with some boys
Three days no sleep, can't keep poised
Uh-uh, hold up

Pussy boys buggin', I'm pesticide (pesticide)
Four Billie streams like I'm bonafide (bonafide)
MK-2, it's a joyride
She Jekyll me off like I'm Mr. Hyde (Uh)
Boys in the stu', off the DMT, yeah, we quiet
High, got a tit' and a buns while I'm at Five Guys
Mayo with the fries, eyes on the prize
It's the bank, bank, bank, bbno$ (skrr, skrr, skrr)
With the safe, safe, safe
Only ever tryna get paid, paid, paid
Pop it, bop it, lock it, fade
I don't know how I got laid, laid, laid
Got a lil' pump, she got a D and a rose
Ten like Ben 10, wrist on froze
Merch seller, full name Jason Clothes
Never sold out, but I sold out shows (uh)

(bbno$)
Skrrt (woah-woah-woah)
(This right here, is a one hundred percent certified slapper)

Writer(s): Alex Gumuchian, David Wilson, Jason Rich, Matthew Hauri, Ryan Mitchel Chassels
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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