[Intro]
(Al Geno on the track)

[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
Bitch, this a Hellcat, this ain't no Scatpack
This not a Beretta, it's a Glock 17 matte black
Hundred bags 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
That Piru left that home red
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 clocks
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
These hoes got more money than a n***a, six racks, ass did
Brought the number seven to the ocean, that was catfish
Rollie, Rollie, I still ain't blow up
Holy moly, this foreign do donuts
They hear me 'fore they see me comin'
Pray my n***as 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 hotboy, I'ma shoot my shot at Toya
Pray bro beat his case, I'm tryna get Metro Boomin to be his lawyer
Digi' dash, no scammin', ho, they filled with cash
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 n***a 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 n***as 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 upped the score up on the opps and watched them pussy n***as fell back
I got a few spots, I never trap where I get 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
Talent too dope, real coke, just seen my opps, they real jokes
Trackhawk Jeep go run (Chiraq)
Got me on her stomach (Sit back)
Fuck I look like runnin'?
Bought .223s, my trap was jumpin'
Know n***as mad they can't see me, I'ma go and buy them n***as 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' n***as 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 n***as, 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 n***a daughter
[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
Bitch, this a Hellcat, this ain't no Scatpack
This not a Beretta, it's a Glock 17 matte black
Hundred bags 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
That Piru left that home red
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