This is a song about "Peaches"

I get paper like i a mail box, seen

We're freaky leeches, no sweet peaches or cream,

But inside of my pocket is a dollar plus a dream

Wicked roots up under me, it was mean, no peaches, cream,

My flow ceaseless dough needless but still save it like its peaches/

So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love