Peachy Lyrics

Ooh, Gotta tell em something baby

They ask me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy, hey

They ask me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

It's after two

And I'm back to you

If I have to lose

It's after you

If I'm acting rude

With attitude

Well it's you I choose

Too bad for you

Just imagine, that we can make it from magic

Hate to say, but it's tragic

And it's the way that you're asking

Sick of faking, and taking the time

And saying the adage

What we learned, was it earned

Or are we just living in plastic?

But if it's real

Then wouldn't we feel

A way until

We couldn't deal

So stop asking me how I'm doing

You don't give a damn

If you really wanted real one

Then girl you'll make some plans

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

Lately she been giving me them wifey vibes

Must be her hustling

Was it the countless tries?

Could be my suffering

Or Possibly were buffering

I'm done with this covering

And over all the struggling

And I know, I'm bugging

I'll say it, ain't budging

I get it, I'm buzzing

But fuck it, I love her

I don't need nothing from these motherfuckers

Not at all

Soon as we both get alone

I know you'll take them panties off

You see see me o'there looking

Come find me at the show,

It's me they booking (it's me!)

You know it ain't no better, I'm the one

Flicka flame, trendsetter

T poppin until it's done, say babe?

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

It's after two

And I'm back to you

If I have to lose

It's after you

If I'm acting rude

With attitude

Well it's you I choose

Too bad for you, I said

I'll be after you

Til after two

Still mad at you

Cause I'm apt to lose

So I'll mask my moves

And bash the brutes

Then I'll crash the coupe

Just for having you

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason

They asked me how I'm doing lately

I just tell em peachy

Hotter than the Georgia streets

And sweeter than the sweet tea

Turn up on the weekends

Sippin on that Riesling

They ask me what I do it for

I ain't got no reason