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Peepin' Out My Window Video (MV)




Performed By: Rob Tré
Language: English
Length: 3:09
Written by: Robert Coleman




Rob Tré - Peepin' Out My Window Lyrics
Official




See I been working on getting my shit off
Bad bitches swapping they lip gloss
Know the hoes love to go for that slick talk
But that talking and shit make my dick soft
You ain't with all that walking then get lost
All that barking don't f*ck with no big dogs.
Swear I be feeling like Rick Ross
What, you think that shit unclear?
See I like my bitches in pairs
Drink till I'm vision impaired
Stumbling up hella stairs
Hoping that nobody stares
But knowing that nobody cares
Long as they blow that smoke in the air.
This shit is a party you wasting your breath.
Aye don't mix that Bacardi go straight to the head
Shit is a product of all the neglect
Niggas be narcing go straight to the feds.
See I parked the coupe that's room for you and you beloved
Tell the twelve that we ain't even doing nothing
Riding through the city with the music bumping
Real estating lookin for a move or something.
And I know you got a man but baby do you love him?
What you think he do if he knew you was f*cking
4am walk in like you ain't doing nothing
Tryna treat a nigga like he new or something
Nigga what?
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
2am freestyling wilding over instrumentals
Smoking choking toking
Out in the open
Hoping nobody scoping
Smoking
Roll up and smoking that potent
Know what I'm holding is golden
You make a play for the crown
One on one shaking you down
So know we not playing around
But you can come play with a round
Come for the dap might get hit with a pound
Still get Bizzie on my bone shit
Hit the weed but the lean make me homesick
Niggas circle round the point on some cone shit
Me and my niggas in the house on some Jerome shit
Treat the snakes on some Indiana Jones shit
Got beef then a nigga keep a chrome fifth
Extra stitch up in the jeans for the long dick
She told her homegirl so I'ma bone bitch
I long dick her like ugh uggghhh
Know I'm getting faded with the bunch
Gotta put the Grey up in the punch
Treating hella niggas like lunch
Life dig dug man you know the shit get crazy with the pump
Take em to the 80s with the funk
Hella niggas shady where I'm from
Love to see me try to make a punt
Know a nigga crazy in the clutch
So you gotta keep a Brady in the Bunch
Shit sound like "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha"
See I found out where I'm going with it
Now I'm rolling with it
Gotta couple bitches hoein with it
Drop it low and get it
Niggas always wanna talk
But niggas never go and get it
I was talking to the bro
And he been saying go and get it
I can find it for the low and flip it
On some dro and get it
I could put it on the floor
And tell your hoe to go and get it
Way I'm switching up the flow
I feel like I'm a poet with it
Nigga ugh
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
2am freestyling wilding over instrumentals
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




See I been working on getting my shit off
Bad bitches swapping they lip gloss
Know the hoes love to go for that slick talk
But that talking and shit make my dick soft
You ain't with all that walking then get lost
All that barking don't f*ck with no big dogs.
Swear I be feeling like Rick Ross
What, you think that shit unclear?
See I like my bitches in pairs
Drink till I'm vision impaired
Stumbling up hella stairs
Hoping that nobody stares
But knowing that nobody cares
Long as they blow that smoke in the air.
This shit is a party you wasting your breath.
Aye don't mix that Bacardi go straight to the head
Shit is a product of all the neglect
Niggas be narcing go straight to the feds.
See I parked the coupe that's room for you and you beloved
Tell the twelve that we ain't even doing nothing
Riding through the city with the music bumping
Real estating lookin for a move or something.
And I know you got a man but baby do you love him?
What you think he do if he knew you was f*cking
4am walk in like you ain't doing nothing
Tryna treat a nigga like he new or something
Nigga what?
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
2am freestyling wilding over instrumentals
Smoking choking toking
Out in the open
Hoping nobody scoping
Smoking
Roll up and smoking that potent
Know what I'm holding is golden
You make a play for the crown
One on one shaking you down
So know we not playing around
But you can come play with a round
Come for the dap might get hit with a pound
Still get Bizzie on my bone shit
Hit the weed but the lean make me homesick
Niggas circle round the point on some cone shit
Me and my niggas in the house on some Jerome shit
Treat the snakes on some Indiana Jones shit
Got beef then a nigga keep a chrome fifth
Extra stitch up in the jeans for the long dick
She told her homegirl so I'ma bone bitch
I long dick her like ugh uggghhh
Know I'm getting faded with the bunch
Gotta put the Grey up in the punch
Treating hella niggas like lunch
Life dig dug man you know the shit get crazy with the pump
Take em to the 80s with the funk
Hella niggas shady where I'm from
Love to see me try to make a punt
Know a nigga crazy in the clutch
So you gotta keep a Brady in the Bunch
Shit sound like "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha"
See I found out where I'm going with it
Now I'm rolling with it
Gotta couple bitches hoein with it
Drop it low and get it
Niggas always wanna talk
But niggas never go and get it
I was talking to the bro
And he been saying go and get it
I can find it for the low and flip it
On some dro and get it
I could put it on the floor
And tell your hoe to go and get it
Way I'm switching up the flow
I feel like I'm a poet with it
Nigga ugh
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
Peeping out my window
Month was December
2am freestyling wilding over instrumentals
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Robert Coleman
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Rob Tré

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