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letra de don't blow it! - ham sandwich (usa)

[chorus]
(uh, yuh!)
world in the palm of your hands, don’t blow it! (don’t blow it!)
gun c-cked to ya head, don’t blow it! (watch out!)
n-gga’s shook and afraid, don’t show it! (woah, woah!)
bad b-tch really wanna get a taste of my d-ck
in the whip, had to tell her, don’t blow it! (don’t do it!)
even though a n-gga know throat goated!
snakes in the grass gotta mow it, fo’sho it’s!
(ayo oddwin!)

[verse 1: ham sandwich}
(uh, uh, uh)
the motive corrosive, the motion demoted
these n-ggas is losers!
npc’s live in computers
b-tches lookin for suitable suitors
while these n-ggas get dating advice from a f-ckin’ subreddit and super seducer!
thinkin’ beggars deserve to be choosers
and a lot of these n-ggas abusers
if i was a woman, i’d keep me a ruger!
y’all n-ggas gotta do better
i really would rather be givin’ y’all humor
get the f-ck off that lil’ n-gga podcast
they don’t know you, you just a consumer
guarantee that them n-ggas have not smashed
anybody they claiming, its rumors!
whole lotta
lame n-ggas lame n-ggas in the runaround
never going out unless the sun is down!
we gotta
shame n-ggas shame n-ggas when they come around
bend em outta shape until they come around!
it be them
same n-ggas same n-ggas who just wanna sound, off
bout how p-ssy ain’t sh-t, and they don’t want it now!
prolly buy some p-ssy for a hunnit thou
prolly not gon’ understand a n-gga words
and i ain’t finna dumb it down

(stupid!)
i get like half of my hoes on accident!
y’all half assin’ it!
none of y’all passionate!
gas in the blunt, but ain’t none of y’all passin it!
y’all n-ggas gassin’ mid!
i drop a track it’s a massive hit!
mahito, i changed the game, ain’t no patchin it!
had to get me a lil’ breather i’m back in it!
bad b-tches backin it, you know i’m smackin it!

mackin and stackin, you know what the mood is!
n-gga i’m rooted!
no i ain’t movin!
no i ain’t zooted!
no i ain’t booted!
i turn a prudist, into a nudist!
just got a new b-tch
new wrist
new phone, who dis?
too lit!
chill out, cool it!
i put the luis in louis
i put the dewey in do it!
i get ya crew hit!
uh!
i get the sh-t that i need!
interrogate me, it’s the fifth that i plead!
they tried to hypnotize me
with some empty promises
you get what i mean?
this is the sh-t that i bleed!
biggest drake, it can’t fit in my jeans!
i wasn’t lit in my teens
but my life a movie
ain’t no skippin’ my scenes!
press play!
and when the film stop i’ma need an essay!
and you better be ready for the test day!
cuz only one of y’all make it in the best case!
you coming for me, best be comin the correct way!
that’s the direct way, n-gga that’s the best way!
f-ckboy’s think they livin’ in my headsp-ce
on the bed, that’s the b-tches-givin’-head sp-ce!

[chorus]
(yuh!)
world in the palm of your hands, don’t blow it! (don’t blow it!)
gun c-cked to ya head, don’t blow it! (watch out!)
n-gga’s shook and afraid, don’t show it! (woah, woah!)
bad b-tch really wanna get a taste of my d-ck
in the whip, had to tell her, don’t blow it! (don’t do it!)
even though a n-gga know throat goated!
snakes in the grass gotta mow it, fo’sho it’s!
[verse 2: drip$tick]
you ain’t catchin me blowin my shot
but his shawty below bouta blow on the spot!
that hoe offered dome and i told her to stop
but i’m jokin, i’m never not over the top!
reason my slogan is boy wanna talk!
i’m owning you phonies, no phoning with pops!
one shot got ’em movin’ like robocop
pull up on that boy, like its robo, and box!
you never catch me disclosin’ my thoughts
pricy, like this clothing, to show what i got
stop it, why you rappin bout paper?
you not rich
sleep on me with no weight
you a cot, b-tch!
why you talkin bout hits?
you don’t got sh-t
ham and drip with the drop
you caught slippin’

all my music miguel with the hot rhythm
and my burner like burter, it’s mach kickin!
i don’t like to talk, i could tell a b-tch word like microsoft!
fortnite sh-t, how i’m offin his team
then i’m coppin’ that v, no item shop!
why he talk about this? i don’t even give a sh-t
i’ma burn a lil bridge, i’m the final boss!
king koopa in this sh-t, you a goomba in the mix
you loomin near the crib, b-tch i’ma stomp!
(okay!)
dandadan way i’ve been seeing things
thinkin’ it’s esp, it’s gettin’ spooky!
speakin on drip its a guillotine
chop get to swingin’, i’ll leave em a two piece
see his circle is roomy
i kick it with loop
not no losers and groupies! (b-tch!)
soon as i blew up the newbies want claim that they knew me
they take me as stupid, sh-t!

- ham sandwich usa

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