Текст песни SB5 (feat. Sada Baby) - Lil Yachty , Sada Baby

Woah, woah
Woah, woah
Woah, woah (30, you a motherfuckin′ fool, nigga)

I left out of school without momma's permission
They wanted me dead, they be hoping and wishing
I′m still in your bags when I'm put in position
I'm dressed in all white like a chef in the kitchen

Lil Sada boat baby, I rock then I work
All these Ks but I would still have joined the navy
Remember that shoot-out in my red Vans
Had to duck, loaded the bullet almost grazed me

I stand but now I′m the type of nigga
That aim so right, when I shoot I ain′t gotta dump
Twelve o'clock in the whip looking for the trunk
And you can′t fake the funk

Pistol attached to a nigga like breast lumps
Lot on the black pump
Pumping on tank three
Three in the morning, I'm half sleep

And nigga I′m half woke
Still aware enough to tell your bitch I'm an asshole
I′m worried 'bout cash flow, income, and getting the bag though
I'm through the back door with my main bitch
Can′t get caught with my side ho

I got Bape on, Baby Milo
Bring the bricks on the high low
This bitch only 5′4" but her throat feel like it's seven feet deep
She sucking dick with a blindfold
Made me disappear like my weed

I′m going in, bitch, it's guaranteed
Left my momma house at 17
Met my first opp on Evergreen
He got dropped with guns he never seen
Had murder on my mind then, free YNW Melly

I don′t know why you hating on me
Give me a reason to leave the Drac' on E
Got this bitch cooking steak for me
In the ′Rari running from the state police
Chopper hold a hundred, say the least
Lil' nigga 'bout to die so say your peace

I know I gotta stay low-key
My granny said she pray for me
She know I keep a K on me
I was waiting on a nigga to play with me

Bitch I′m a lover and a fighter
Keep two sticks on me like striker
Custom vests, I ain′t no biker
She could stay the night if I invite her

488, yeah the Spider
Red and yellow like I'm Rowdy Piper
Give a damn if shorty got a nigga
If the bitch is going, I′ma pipe her

Choppa 'round my belt like eight numbers
Eight numbers like I was at Rikers
Pistol snug like it′s in a diaper
Bitch with me got Balmain like a biker

Bitch, what I want is hard to decipher
In a cypher most these niggas liars
Austin Power groovy, Michael Myers
Kill 'em off like Chris in Stomp the Yard

This lil′ bitch right here, she got me hard
She just want the last four to my card
Drop her off right there on boulevard
Fucked her once and left the baby scarred

She was wearing Fendi leotards
I been cooking, whipping
Leonard DiCaprio, this white boy a star
Trapping out the house and in the car

I just served your spouse up at the bar
And you told like the mouse you are
Watch your mouth, you snitching from afar
Make no sense, you niggas work with law

Make no sense, you niggas need address
Left the nest, the team is still correct
Collect the bag, the bag I will collect
I'm the richer man, I won't contest

I′m the better rapper, I confess
Fucked her, now she setting up the desk
Fuck her, now she organize my clothes
Niggas mad I′m sending lower blows

Niggas mad I'm fucking better hoes
I′m a G, sucking ne'er toe
But I flipped the pussy like some dough
Freckles on her face like dominos

(30, you a motherfuckin′ fool, nigga)