Miley Cyrus – Cattitude Lyrics

  • Miley-Cyrus-Cattitude-Lyrics

“Cattitude by Miley Cyrus”
Miley Cyrus
B—- you look like you done already did had yours
You better go take your country a– indoors and put some damn clothes on
‘Cause nobody need to be seeing all of that
The library is officially open

This cat is in heat
Lemme ride that beat
My p—- on fire
P—- five-alarm fire

This cat is in heat
Lemme ride that beat
My p—- on fire
P—- five-alarm fire

Turn up your grattitude
Turn on your attitude
I love my p—- that means I got cattitude
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
(I don’t f— with you)
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
(I don’t f— with you)

Turn up you gratitude
Turn down your attitude
I love my p—- that means I got cattitude
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
(I don’t f— with you)
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
(I don’t f— with you)

Ay, go stupid, go dumb
Come and get it, ’cause I know you want some
Nashville, Tennessee where I’m from
Since I was three, I been bangin’ on the drum
Rum-pum-pum-pum a-rum-pum-pum-pum-pum
Rum-pum-pum-pum a-rum-pum-pum-pum-pum
Rum-pum-pum-pum a-rum-pum-pum-pum-pum
Rum-pum-pum-pum pum-pum-pum-pum-pum-nasty

I’m so nasty
Nasty
Nasty
I’m so motherfuckin’ nasty

Ride, shine, clock say “p—- time”
Bust my p—- nut while I’m fingerin’ your butt
Do I s— d—? You ain’t seen s—
Throw a C-note, watch you slide down my throat
Yeah, my p—- fine, I pop it ’cause it’s mine
I don’t give a f— if they call me a slut
What I do with a d—, elect me President
Put tears in his eyes when I milk a brother dry

So nasty
Nasty
Nasty
Nasty
Nasty

I’ma keep workin’ from dawn to dusk
So I can keep buyin’ cars off Elon Musk
The matte-black spinners, no that’s a must
I want the whole pie, so leave the crust
I’m the moon, I’m the stars, I’m a Maserati
I love you, Nicki, but I listen to Cardi
I got a new song on the radio
And it goes five, four, three, two
One, that’s right, it’s a number one
And I can’t take you with me as a carry-on
I already got my luggage, it’s Margielan
And for my sixteenth birthday, I got Carey on
From the house up
The Queen

Queen, “Queen” is what you can call me
Queen, I’ma have you runnin’ to your mommy
Queen, I’m the life of the party
Don’t worry ’bout me, go and get yourself a hobby

(Sweet p—- of mine)
I’m so nasty
(Sweet p—- of mine)

Turn up your gratitude
Turn down your attitude
I love my p—- that means I got cattitude
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
I don’t f— with you
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
I don’t f— with you

(Get it, get it)
I’m so nasty
(Cash money)
I’m so nasty
(Get it, get it)
(Got it good)

Turn up your gratitude
Turn down your attitude
I love my p—- that means I got cattitude
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
I don’t f— with you
If you don’t feel what I’m sayin’
I don’t f— with you

Back up, you’re squashin’ my charisma
Why I gotta be so motherfuckin’ extra?
Back up, you’re squashin’ my charisma
Why I gotta be so motherfuckin’ extra?

(Get it, get it)
I’m so nasty
(Cash money)
Nasty
(Get it, get it)
I’m so nasty
(Cash money)
I’m so motherfuckin’ nasty

You’re just mad ’cause your hair is flat
I’m so motherfuckin’ nasty
You’re just mad ’cause your hair is flat
I’m so motherfuckin’ nasty

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