peekaboo (feat. Kendrick Lamar)

(Give a helping hand)
(To your fellow men)
(Oh, my)

Ayy
What?
Look

What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Huh? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Hm, ayy

What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Huh? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Hm

Peekaboo, I just put them boogers in my chain
Peekaboo, eighty-pointers like a Kobe game
Peekaboo, 7.62s'll make 'em plank
Peekaboo, poppin' out, you better not smut my name
Peekaboo, put two foreigns on the 405
Peekaboo, Cacio e Pepe if I'm doin' pasta
Peekaboo, why you actin' tough on IG live?
Peekaboo, you know my lil' niggas off they rocker

(Peekaboo) surprise, bitch, it's that nigga Chuck E. Cheese
(Peekaboo) let me FaceTime my opp, bitch, I'm up the street
(Peekaboo) yeah, it's Az, I'm puttin' somethin' to sleep
(Peekaboo) he on the ground, I praise God and start stompin' feet
(Peekaboo) I put ten on his face, bitch, my shooter playin'
(Peekaboo) I hit it from the back, I told her move her hands
(Peekaboo) then slide my thumb in it where her, uh, at
(Peekaboo) I'm on your top, I'm with Dot, bitch, don't look back

What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Huh? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Hm

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, that's my bitch
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, that's my bitch
Hey, hey, hey, hey, with all that fake shit
Hey, hey, hey, hey, ain't the one to play with
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, pull off in a Lam'
Double-park it all at Tam's, Mister Get-Off-On-Your-Mans
If he hatin', disrespect, you better follow up with hands
Losses to the neck, but now I'm trophied up, I'm sayin', like
Bing-bop-boom-boom-boom-bop-bam
The type of shit I'm on, you wouldn't understand
The type of skits I'm on, you wouldn't understand
Big dog business, I would not hold your hand

Broke-bitch business, I could not be your man
Never got his ass whooped until we opened up that can
Damn, alley-oop me bands, I'ma slam, jam
Freak bitch, I like my MAC touchin' yams
Play that opp shit around me, I'ma tell you: Turn it off
Heard what happened to your mans, not sorry for your loss
Should've prayed before them shooters came and nailed him to the cross
I let your boy get a pass, bitch, you lucky he soft, for real

What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
Huh? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Hm, ayy

What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
What they talkin' 'bout? (They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin')
Huh? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Hm

Peekaboo