Hellcat - Intellectual

[Intro]

(Al Geno on the track)

[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]

Bitch, this a Hellcat, this ain't no Scat Pack

This not a Beretta, it's a Glock 17 matte black

Hundred bags of OG, but can't throw you one, I am not that

Don't put your camera on me, lil' ho, we just fuckin', this is not that

Beefin' with us, yeah, you dead

Like Piru, I left that ho on read

Gotta put shit on your head

Ho, don't lay down on my bed

Get down, bend over on the floor

I'm high, but let's fuck on the low

Bought an FN with a red light

Even though I'm on the go

[Verse 1: Rylo Rodriguez]

Fuck them guys, they know it's up, my neck and wrist is frozen up

Project baby, candy lady, I spent a rack on frozen cups

Every gun, go load 'em up, my shit bumpin', you can see it puss

Stop by CVS and bought deodorant 'cause gettin' cheese a must

This ho got more money than her nigga, six racks, ass did

Blocked her humber, sent her to the ocean, that was catfish

Rollie, Rollie, I still ain't blowed up

Holy moly, this foreign do donuts

They hear me 'fore they see me comin'

Pray my niggas touch down, Michael Thomas

She went to suck my dick, but it ain't turn me on, she had on a bonnet

Lil' ho keep on playin', I told her, "Whatever, mate," 'cause she from London

Ain't have shit, but now I'm royal

I'm a hot boy, I'ma shoot my shot at Toya

Pray bro beat his case, I'm tryna get Metro Boomin to be his lawyer

Digital dash, no scammin', ho, them VINs be cashin'

She swipe the card, I swiped her heart

Bros in the yard, they knives are sharp

Fifty racks, my jewelry on

Roll through the hood, I stopped and parked

Hundred shots, I don't drink no liquor

You do the math, I don't like the bar

[Verse 2: MGM Lett]

I was broke as fuck and grabbed a P

Smokin' opps out grabba leaves

I'm ballin', makin' plays while the police tryna tackle me

A nigga try to play, then we gon' shoot up the whole faculty

I'm really in the streets and got the same shit that these rappers be

Had a bad shuffle, I'ma play it how the cards lay

Know some young niggas who rebels, they don't listen to what God say

If we beefin', get the shovel, I guarantee that them boys lay

Ever since that shit had happened, call my partner Mr. Broad Day

We up the score up on the opps and watch them pussy niggas fell back (Fell back)

I got a few spots, I never trap where I get mail at (Mail at)

But keep that to yourself because an informant'll tell that

My opps ain't got no car, but we still spinned that shit in Hellcats

[Verse 3: Jay Montana]

Hotbox, I can't breathe, this ain't weed, bitch, it's gun smoke

Tana too dope, real coke, just seen my opps, they real jokes

Trackhawk Jeep go run it (Chiraq), got me on her stomach (Sit back)

Fuck I look like runnin'? Bought .223s, my trap was jumpin'

Know niggas mad they can't see me, I'ma go and buy them niggas glasses

Bitch ain't know she could've got a bag, she fucked me for some lashes

Can't take it back when me and Lu get mad, we ain't givin' niggas passes

I pour, I'm itchin', yeah, rashes, they trap dry, yeah, cactus

You know we ride with automatics

Turn the knob up, say it's static

Took back the Rollie, want the Patek

In and out of town, ain't even pack it

I been way too soft on niggas, lately, I been goin' harder

Could've bought a thousand Tropicanas, but I spent this shit on water

Yeah, fuck my opps, I'ma raise my son, I'ma make him hit the nigga daughter