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letra de trippin? - ham sandwich [usa]

[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

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