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ham sandwich [usa] - trippin? lyrics

[hook]
why you trippin’?
why you trippin’?
got the juice, hi+c, i’m sippin’
keep a pole but a n+gga ain’t strippin’

[verse 1: ham sandwich]
boy i’m in your hood straight sippin’ on lipton
hide the wet floor sign just to catch a n+gga slippin’
if a n+gga want beef, get it same day shippin’
got me feel like spongebob how i always gotta flip it
i’m a threat if you in debt to me
haters must be paraplegic; none of them can step to me
feel like mr. krabs how all these n+ggas want the recipe
call me to the throne, i’m ’bout to have a date with destiny
your b+tch tryna message me

ain’t n0body mess with me
if that n+gga talkin’ on the gang, that n+gga dead to me
keep a nine on top my hip
dеgurechaff is next to me
look around and all i see arе imitations: lesser me
people in my way have very low life expectancy!
low lives livin’ low lives: no trajectory!
ain’t a single one of them has ever come correct to me!
talkin’ out they ass, how these n+ggas talkin’ rectally!
these n+ggas ain’t sh+t
they could walk around in slides; n+ggas still gon’ trip
run a mile in the summer and they still couldn’t drip
own slaves in the south and they still couldn’t whip

god d+mn
you n+ggas just some dominoes
while i got the whole set ballin, no karasuno
if that n+gga singing he get flatlined, monotone
metal all around him, all he finna “c” is monochrome
n+gga why you trippin’?

[hook]
why you trippin’?
got the juice, hi+c, i’m sippin’
why you trippin’?
why you trippin’?
keep a pole, but a n+gga ain’t strippin’

why you trippin’?
why you trippin’?
got the juice, hi+c, i’m sippin’
keep a pole but a n+gga ain’t strippin’
why you trippin’?
why you trippin’?
keep a pole, but a n+gga ain’t strippin’
[verse 2: camogod]
dumb b+tch hit my line, told that ho get education
asian b+tch, buddist parents, so they no i’m meditated
they ain’t f+ckin’ with the vision, so my chopper doin’ lasik
he want beef, i’m ‘a slide, n+gga just send the location
she give me face like poker; movin’ like i’m joker
she be wearin’ neck collars ’cause she love the way i choke her
bad b+tch with a blade on my side like i’m smoker
got her pinned on the wall now she lookin’ like a poster (like a what?)

n+ggas trippin’ like it’s smash bros. brawl
i came up with the bag, now my n+ggas gonna ball
shawty always on my line, i ain’t pickin up the call
i checked the calendar it’s summer, n+ggas trippin’ like it’s fall

n+gga f+ck what you think
in the club, and i’m drinkin’
met your b+tch, she a ho
made her cum with my pinkie
and my chinese plug gave me gas; now i’m ++
n+gga, no master sword, so f+ck, we ain’t linking

got a glock with a beam, no solar
and i’m countin’ up my grams; boy i check it by the molar
told that b+tch open up; now i’m nuttin’ on her molar
got a couple gl!cks on me, n+gga, just check the holder
b+tch you a folder; i’m like solder
your wrist cold? n+gga my wrist colder!
said she wanted bands, b+tch, i already told her
if she tryna go, make a scene, i don’t know her

- ham sandwich usa lyrics

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