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letra de not regular - sada baby & lil yachty

lyrics from snippet

[intro: lil yachty]
slatt
ooh, ooh (brrt), ooh (b-tch)

[verse: lil yachty]
ooh (b-tch), everything that a n-gga did is not regular (b-tch, b-tch, b-tch)
bad b-tch wanna f-ck some, better hit my cellular (b-tch, brrt)
i can’t fall in love with no ig ho ’cause they all editors (slatt)
and these old rap n-ggas, they all predators (ooh)
n-ggas be actin’ like they really rich but livin’ like janitors (ooh)
lowkey late night on the sunday street (yeah), far from the ministers (beep)
f-ckin’ this b-tch but got chemistry (beep)
i did sh-t deep in the industry (beep)
i got the .30s on my clip with the benz, green, err (yeah)
i got the coupe, it’s brown on brown like a godd-mn reindeer (skrrt)
comin’ up, burberry, champagne, my b-tch pure (go)
i create the cure, i f-ck up the looks (hol’ up)

[verse: sada baby]
pop percs, sip lean, don’t drink liquor (mm-mm)
from the d, might buy wires with the mink fur (uh)
my n-gga yachty quit the wocky, i like, “is you sure?”
we off a lotta syrup, but i still’d shoot (but i, hm)
know i be with n-ggas special as i’m k!llin’ crews (yeah, i do)
yeah, whole gang of n-ggas who make n-ggas move (they do)
f-ck a b-tch and her momma if i feel his boo (ye-yeah)
skubaroo make a pass (ye-yeah), the daughter send me nudes (ye-yeah)
i got racks on racks on racks so i see roger federer (get it)
f-ck the opps, i up chops on all my competitors (slime)
if there’s smoke, we at your throat, we take extreme measures (yeah)
shoot him in his shoot then do it again to make him bleed extra (yeah, hahaha)
[verse: lil yachty]
we at your door like extra, extra, read all about it
all my n-ggas t–th gold like they ’bout it ’bout it (yeah)
three different hoes stacked up in my new ferrari
they don’t even know each other but they sittin’ body to body (slatt)
half of my staff white on white, look like scotty 2 hotty (yeah)
my main b-tch got two phones, one for when i call
strap it to her purse, that sh-t look like a lil’ tamagotchi (hoo)
on my momma, boy, i hate when they call me lil yatchy (hoo)
i hate the paparazzi (woo-hoo)

[verse 4: sada baby]
(uh-huh) n-ggas better not call me any f-ckin’ thang but sada (yeah)
call me skuba and i don’t know you, i’ll beat up or shot ya (on god)
i hate the b-tches and the b-tch n-ggas in my condos (aight, aight, aight uh)
throw a lil’ n-gga off the cliff, scuba steve hate haji (yeah)
half a brick, i chop a brick, my mans gon’ rock it (hm)
i’m in watts off the ‘dusse, my names ain’t rocky (yeah)
on our way back to the nearest [?] and [?] (yeah)
brodie and we jumped him (yeah)

[verse 5: lil yachty]
(frrt) jumped ’em, stomped ’em, got him gone (yeah)
gave him a wedgie, he a nerd n-gga, run him home (b-tch)
sent your statements, your emotions, did quincy jones (ha)
better leave me ‘lone, before i change the tone
[outro: lil yachty]
frrt
sada, boat, sada
f-ck ’em, f-ck ’em
haha

- sada baby lil yachty

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