Lyrics Hellcat By Alamo Records OnLine | Musica Lyrics

Alamo Records - Hellcat Lyrics

[Intro: Eli Fross]
(A guy by the name of PepperJack Zoe)
(PepperJack Zoe)
Fross

[Chorus: Eli Fross & Trapland Pat]
Get blue cheese like Rio, ayy
Head crack shit like Cee-lo, ayy
Talk that shit, better get low, ayy
Don't want them dogs at your peephole, ayy
You don’t want them Z's walking down to catch one
Back end, grab a scope, just attach one
Want smoke? Roll it up, we can match one
Too much dirt in this match, grab the black one
Like, fuck nigga mad, get your bread up, ayy
I was fuckin' on his bitch, now he fed up, ayy
Know we put shit down if you let up, ayy
Tell Trap sit, now he get wet up, ayy
’Cause we way too sturdy
Thirty-six zips, that's a birdy
Been in thе game, no jersey
Streets so slimе, they tryna take me out early
I pick and choose with them hoes 'cause they all ain't worthy

[Verse 1: Eli Fross]
Know my niggas gotta talk that shit
Hellcat fast, but she still suck dick
Bands on the tag, what it cost my drip
And this boy won't last when he feel this clip
[Verse 2: Trapland Pat]
NYC, high speed on the one-way
I just took off, them niggas still on the runway
Murder on my mind, fuck it, this a redrum day
Rollin' off X, plus we sippin' on Bombay

[Verse 3: Eli Fross]
Dead man, dead man, them guns out
No, we don't talk much, we plot it out
Bad bitch wanna get lit, her tongue out
Back then, she ain’t fuck with me, but fuck now

[Verse 4: Trapland Pat]
Four deep, pop out, hop out on the Yukon
Trapland booted, I don’t know what he on
Sleep is for the week, so I don't even sleep long
He thought he got a zip, but I gave that boy a Deon

[Verse 5: Eli Fross]
12 on my ass and I’m duckin' them niggas
Fuck on my bitch like I'm fuckin' my trigger
I get the bag and I’m talkin' them digits
Them boys on your ass 'cause that bag on your figgy

[Verse 6: Trapland Pat]
I really ran a hundred K up off Green Dots
And I don't fuck with groupies, they be tryna take screenshots
I just cracked a seal, tryna see what this lean 'bout
And we don't pick or choose, gotta wipe the whole team out
[Chorus: Eli Fross & Trapland Pat]
Get blue cheese like Rio, ayy
Head crack shit like Cee-lo, ayy
Talk that shit, better get low, ayy
Don't want them dogs at your peephole, ayy
You don't want them Z's walking down to catch one
Back end, grab a scope, just attach one
Want smoke? Roll it up, we can match one
Too much dirt in this match, grab the black one
Like, fuck nigga mad, get your bread up, ayy
I was fuckin' on his bitch, now he fed up, ayy
Know we put shit down if you let up, ayy
Tell Trap sit, now he get wet up, ayy
'Cause we way too sturdy
Thirty-six zips, that's a birdy
Been in the game, no jersey
Streets so slime, they tryna take me out early
I pick and choose with them hoes 'cause they all ain't worthy

[Outro: Trapland Pat & Eli Fross]
Duh-duh-duh
Get blue cheese like Rio, ayy
Duh-duh-duh
Get blue cheese like Rio, ayy
Duh-duh-duh
Get blue cheese like Rio, ayy
Duh-duh-duh
Get blue cheese like Rio, ayy