Sada Baby - Black Harlow
(Ayy, Nas, this that wave)Oh, ooh
Huh
Me and your bitch gon' have sex
If she look me in my eyes
Me and your ho just met
Already on Valentine
You and your niggas gettin' left
Huh, me and mines gettin' right nigga
Nigga in his neck with this nasty-ass nine
Pop perc, throw up my sit
Hang the yopper out the ride
I can't give a fan no hug
If they don't understand my five
They don't understand my side
They don't understand my pride
Me and my niggas out for blood
You and your niggas 'bout to die
I can't show a nigga love
He ain't ready for it to slide
Said I can't show a nigga love
If he ain't ready for it to slide
He ain't turnt up like me
He ain't on tip like I
Get a burnt-up white tee
Get to fucking with my squad
Oh, uh, uh-uh
I had an attitude problem
Yeah, stay angry, huh
Get your bitch booty naked
Go may-may, huh
Keep a stick on my person
Ain't for play-play
Keep a brick or two
We workin', got that yay-yay, huh
I might fly your BM out, with her lyin' ass
Fuck 'round, stuff a script in her fine ass
AR got an army issue clip, where you find that?
Ain't get that bitch from Action Impact, that's on 5 'nem
Few of my niggas got them CC-dubs, why we ridin' with 'em?
Few of my niggas don't, but on God, still on sight with 'em
We'll shoot you up if you want it or fight with you
Lately I ain't had no time for it, got them pipes on us
Pack this bitch up
Huh, light this bitch up
Huh, this ain't no stick-up
Huh, but them sticks up, oh
He stuck with the beacoup face, he got his bitch fucked, huh
Got her picked up, yeah, she ate the dick up
Y'all don't spin no blocks, spend no money
Y'all don't spend nothin'
She get dick, we get on y'all ass and we get money
Always tryna flip something, a nigga or his pickup
The ho gon' give me head 'til she half-dead and got the hiccups
I ain't got no problem with you
But I still up a chopper on you
You gotta play by Sada 'n 'em rules, wild man
Hit a nigga with a bottle, he through
Stick his bottle up, get to sockin' on dude
Get rich, follow up, get to firin' on dude
Then I'ma take a hoodrat right to the room
Can't no lame nigga fuck up my mood, woah
Keep the party going like it's Mardi Gras
Got the flamethrower, made him body dog
I was mindin' my motherfuckin' business
I wasn't even tryna bother y'all
I ain't scared of you, nigga, not at all
I ain't sparin' you, gang tied it off
Put a fare on you, we gon' round it off
To the nearest thousand, then knock you off
Get 2K, we drop you off
Still shoot your mans, he not involved
Sell 8-balls look like cotton balls
Tell my fiend I'm gettin' off
Ain't none of them got no fentanyl
I could never rip 'em off
Them motherfuckers got my people rich off dog, duh
Pop perc, throw up my sit
Hang the yopper out the ride
I can't give a fan no hug
If they don't understand my five
They don't understand my side
They don't understand my pride
Me and my niggas out for blood
You and your niggas 'bout to die
I can't show a nigga love
He ain't ready for it to slide
Said I can't show a nigga love
If he ain't ready for it to slide
He ain't turnt up like me
He ain't on tip like I
Get a burnt-up white tee
Get to fucking with my squad
Oh, uh, uh-uh
Written by:
Brandon Alves, Casada Sorrell
Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave
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