"GLE 2 Hellcat" lyrics
Nigga ain't talkin' 'bout Glocks, you ain't talkin' 'bout nun'
You ain't talkin' 'bout Glocks, you ain't talkin' 'bout nun'
Yeah, hop out, hop out, hop out (Hop out)
Hop out, Glocks out
Hop out, spin out the window
Fuck that nigga man, he ain't my kinfolk
Glock 22, I got from my bro
13, that's when I went and kicked my first door
I got the recipe, what you know?
Free Trick, you know that boy rock the score
Backdoor action, he ain't movin', he ain't got no traction
False claimin', the fuck is you stackin'?
Rockstar, hell nah, we ain't lackin'
You not in the street, stop cappin'
You know that ain't nothin', bitch, I got the pack in
I fuck on a bitch with a french accent
Racks comin' in when I schlep a jackson
I don't want no dap, Trackhawk, slidin' down that street, matte black
Pass to the swoop, man, that ho a nat-nat
Real gangster, and you hang with the rats
Go yard bag, red and green beam, laser tag
Red flag, right round his gat
My partner, he billy, he keep screamin' "Blatt"
Caught that boy lackin', he get ate like a snack
Shot in the face, nigga, long live snack
City lamb, like I'm that, that nigga walked his shit down 'cause he wasn't watchin' his back
I been had crack, nigga gave it to me in the book bag
Tellin' on they self on VLAD
Y'all niggas need to stop goin' out bad
Just beat the case, I was facin' the act
That a ho a dip, man, I'm really just glad
That boy gon' catch him my toe tag
I fucked her friend, they both mad
On my birthday, I want a ski mask
Boy, you ain't gangster, you not finna blast
Just stop that cryin', I don't care if you sad
Just got out county, my eight man set
Oh, you talm 'bout some "Fuck Sum"?, you ain't mean that
I got that button, nigga, pull up right now I'm on my fuck shit, nigga, pipe down
Y'all ass, come clean, pussy, gotta switch the fen
Catch 'em down bad, then I grab the F.N
Get some getback, nigga, fuck yo' dead men
Scammin' the bank, nigga, check me on cam
Bottom tail with the mobb, this the back lane
Last bag I dealt, I don't wanna hang with no niggas, fuck that camp
Yeah, hop out, hop out, hop out (Hop out)
Hop out, Glocks out
Hop out, spin out the window
Fuck that nigga man, he ain't my kinfolk
Glock 22, I got from my bro
13, that's when I went and kicked my first door
I got the recipe, what you know?
Free Trick, you know that boy rock the score
Backdoor action, he ain't movin', he ain't got no traction
False claimin', the fuck is you stackin'?
Rockstar, hell nah, we ain't lackin'
You not in the street, stop cappin'
You know that ain't nothin', bitch, I got the pack in
I fuck on a bitch with a french accent
Racks comin' in when I schlep a jackson
B.L. with some bitches in the mansion
Slaughterhouse, bitch, pull up A.R.P., Cybertruck
He's a bitch, I know he gon' dunk the fade
He ain't gon' hit, lil' nigga, then let's just gon' blade for blade
I'm tryna lock down, bad bitches comin' around, bad bitch, I'm hoin' her down
Buy her bag, she go for the pound
Black rose, diggy rack
Fuck friends, let's keep it like that
Play with the mobb, nigga get smacked
My bitch got a switch on her gat
She suckin' dick, crazy, she got the gap
Bitch, I'm poppin' out, chrome heart jacket
She givin' me pussy, nigga, I ain't even askin'
Man, what y'all wanna do? I don't give fuck, boy, I'm a loose screw
He'll crash out here, tote deuce-deuce
Now I got money, so I act brand new
Pop, I'm just flexin', they ain' got they weapon
Bad bitch from Texas, ass fast, she sexy
I ain't tryna talk about that old shit I lock my hair up, I dropped the wicks She freaked out, she gon' lick the tip
Damn, damn, she eat up the trip
Get you a fye and let that bih' rip
Beyblade shit, his block got spent
Get you a bitch and then make the hoe sick
I smoke a blunt watch her play with her clit
G.L.E. to the hellcat
You ain't talkin' 'bout Glocks, you ain't talkin' 'bout nun'
Yeah, hop out, hop out, hop out (Hop out)
Hop out, Glocks out
Hop out, spin out the window
Fuck that nigga man, he ain't my kinfolk
Glock 22, I got from my bro
13, that's when I went and kicked my first door
I got the recipe, what you know?
Free Trick, you know that boy rock the score
Backdoor action, he ain't movin', he ain't got no traction
False claimin', the fuck is you stackin'?
Rockstar, hell nah, we ain't lackin'
You not in the street, stop cappin'
You know that ain't nothin', bitch, I got the pack in
I fuck on a bitch with a french accent
Racks comin' in when I schlep a jackson
I don't want no dap, Trackhawk, slidin' down that street, matte black
Pass to the swoop, man, that ho a nat-nat
Real gangster, and you hang with the rats
Go yard bag, red and green beam, laser tag
Red flag, right round his gat
My partner, he billy, he keep screamin' "Blatt"
Caught that boy lackin', he get ate like a snack
Shot in the face, nigga, long live snack
City lamb, like I'm that, that nigga walked his shit down 'cause he wasn't watchin' his back
I been had crack, nigga gave it to me in the book bag
Tellin' on they self on VLAD
Y'all niggas need to stop goin' out bad
Just beat the case, I was facin' the act
That a ho a dip, man, I'm really just glad
That boy gon' catch him my toe tag
I fucked her friend, they both mad
On my birthday, I want a ski mask
Boy, you ain't gangster, you not finna blast
Just stop that cryin', I don't care if you sad
Just got out county, my eight man set
Oh, you talm 'bout some "Fuck Sum"?, you ain't mean that
I got that button, nigga, pull up right now I'm on my fuck shit, nigga, pipe down
Y'all ass, come clean, pussy, gotta switch the fen
Catch 'em down bad, then I grab the F.N
Get some getback, nigga, fuck yo' dead men
Scammin' the bank, nigga, check me on cam
Bottom tail with the mobb, this the back lane
Last bag I dealt, I don't wanna hang with no niggas, fuck that camp
Yeah, hop out, hop out, hop out (Hop out)
Hop out, Glocks out
Hop out, spin out the window
Fuck that nigga man, he ain't my kinfolk
Glock 22, I got from my bro
13, that's when I went and kicked my first door
I got the recipe, what you know?
Free Trick, you know that boy rock the score
Backdoor action, he ain't movin', he ain't got no traction
False claimin', the fuck is you stackin'?
Rockstar, hell nah, we ain't lackin'
You not in the street, stop cappin'
You know that ain't nothin', bitch, I got the pack in
I fuck on a bitch with a french accent
Racks comin' in when I schlep a jackson
B.L. with some bitches in the mansion
Slaughterhouse, bitch, pull up A.R.P., Cybertruck
He's a bitch, I know he gon' dunk the fade
He ain't gon' hit, lil' nigga, then let's just gon' blade for blade
I'm tryna lock down, bad bitches comin' around, bad bitch, I'm hoin' her down
Buy her bag, she go for the pound
Black rose, diggy rack
Fuck friends, let's keep it like that
Play with the mobb, nigga get smacked
My bitch got a switch on her gat
She suckin' dick, crazy, she got the gap
Bitch, I'm poppin' out, chrome heart jacket
She givin' me pussy, nigga, I ain't even askin'
Man, what y'all wanna do? I don't give fuck, boy, I'm a loose screw
He'll crash out here, tote deuce-deuce
Now I got money, so I act brand new
Pop, I'm just flexin', they ain' got they weapon
Bad bitch from Texas, ass fast, she sexy
I ain't tryna talk about that old shit I lock my hair up, I dropped the wicks She freaked out, she gon' lick the tip
Damn, damn, she eat up the trip
Get you a fye and let that bih' rip
Beyblade shit, his block got spent
Get you a bitch and then make the hoe sick
I smoke a blunt watch her play with her clit
G.L.E. to the hellcat
