run it back! - ham sandwich (usa) lyrics
[hook: ham sandwich)
twin glocks, rem ram
f*cking with the gang, you a dead man
drip on, wetland
money on my mind like a headband
these are not problems you wanna have
chop on my side, they gon’ call me a lumberjack
i feel like subaru walking through h*ll but if i take an ‘l’ then you know i’m gon’ run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back, run it back (huh)
hundred racks, hundred racks
i need to get me a hundred racks (huh)
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, ay!
[verse 1: ham sandwich]
call up my goons and you know they gon’ lace up
said he want smoke so i open my gate up
don’t know the code, we ain’t open the gate up
whale on the chopper, it might could erase ya
that n*gga say that he carry, he built like he ferris, he built like a b*tch from the waist up
my b*tch echidna, she sit in your hood sipping tea that you wishing you could get a taste of (huh)
ain’t n0body wanna save us
i got it out of the mud for my people
they painting me out to be somebody evil
i picked up the pieces, the pain, and my demons
agreements between us is meaningless
when i’m a slave to the sin of envy
they gon’ take advantage if you being friendly
lived a hundred lives this sh*t be weighing heavy
so i keep me them
[hook: ham sandwich]
twin glocks, rem ram
f*cking with the gang, you a dead man
drip on, wetland
money on my mind like a headband
these are not problems you wanna have
chop on my side, they gon’ call me a lumberjack
i feel like subaru walking through h*ll but if i take an ‘l’ then you know i’m gon’ run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back, run it back (huh)
hundred racks, hundred racks
i need to get me a hundred racks (huh)
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, ay!
[verse 2: aerial ace]
back to run yo cash, give a f*ck what you felt, b*tch i am toting that
lowkey, i book it, i’m beatrice off the map
keep a witch stick, if he snitching his throat collapse
square by the square, getting boxed like a tesseract
puck how i’m sliding on tracks, i’m the coldest cat
these rappers mid and my pen game exposing that
ya clown like composure is close to wraps, homie dispose of that
you could put me on a cloud, that won’t get yo lil story rekindled
want spin my top, turn round his block, caught him showing his ass, like flipping a nickel
i had my mental whipping on my temple until i saw more open roads than a rental
you ain’t got sh*t to your name but this metal, you p*ssy, i pull it, you garfiel tinsel (boom!)
[hook: ham sandwich]
twin glocks, rem ram
f*cking with the gang, you a dead man
drip on, wetland
money on my mind like a headband
these are not problems you wanna have
chop on my side, they gon’ call me a lumberjack
i feel like subaru walking through h*ll but if i take an ‘l’ then you know i’m gon’ run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back, run it back (huh)
hundred racks, hundred racks
i need to get me a hundred racks (huh)
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, run it back
run it back, ay!
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