Peek a Boo (REMIX)

I told Mr. Krab to take me off that grill and let me cook for real Spongebob and Patrick in this bitch for real This is how we pop out down in Bikini Bottom Yeah Ooh, ooh, peek-a-boo, who's that sliding down your block Oh look, it's me and the crew Boatmobile ain't got a roof, got em hanging out the side ready to shoot Lil' bitch, this ain't nothing new, this how the Krusty Krab do Here come the sponge and the star, speeding through traffic, just bobbing and weaving I roll down the window to let out them demons who toting them poles, they be itching to beam em I come up from the bottom, you see me, I promise that if you get caught in bikini We'll up it and blow em away, ain't no wish or a genie I guess you all have forgotten you need me Guess who back Guess who back Look, it's Patrick with the strap Run before I get your ass Going dumb blowing a bag Ain't on top, you know that's cap Pull the trigger, it blow back Send you where you can't go back That's a fact Ain't no pretending, we don't ever cap My circle's small, there ain't never been cracks We only showing up if we get cash My money never fold, no, it just stacks Coming at me, then you come at the Krab That is the beef that you don't wanna have Ain't mean to flex wasn't trying to brag But if you pop out, we put you in a bag, like Ooh, ooh, peek-a-boo, who's that sliding down your block Oh look, it's me and the crew Boatmobile ain't got a roof, got em hanging out the side ready to shoot Lil' bitch, this ain't nothing new, this how the Krusty Krab do They switching the beat like a cypher I fuck her and dip If I don't really like her She want me to pay her just because I pipe her Can someone explain why she acting like Piper? There ain't a purse that I ever would buy her The streets is the place that you find her If I touch a mic, then I catch it on fire The team going up like a bubble get higher, yeah Hanging with Mrs. Puff Puff Pass Playing your track, what the fuck is that? Yeah, you can never touch my swag No, better stay the fuck back Or you get popped like my bubble buddy The racks on your head ain't no subtle money This shit ain't a joke, there ain't nothing funny Try, but you can't get the struggle from me Now I did that Lived that Was down bad got my lick back I hit the gas and she sit back As I grip that Thick thigh by her hip tat That butterfly by her thick ass Top down as we zip past When its demon time, I switch back Look Alright, that's enough Get back on the grill, boy