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sleep paralysis - ham sandwich (usa) lyrics

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[louverture’s tag]
that boy lou gon f*ck it up

[ham sandwich]
saying he bout it, i know he the opposite
said he got fire, but he isn’t dropping it
hit with a semi, get hit with the optimus
so many arms got me feel like an octopus

n*ggas vanilla, but i’m feelin chocolate
you ain’t got nothing, don’t care what you offering
do him so dirty, you can’t even doctor him
so many sons that i feel like i’m fostering
[louverture]
flexin my ws, ain’t no room for that modesty
if you act sweet you get flamed like a taki g
god emcee, got your b*tch wet from the thought of me
you fake as sh*t, your whole life is mythology

louverture, ham, we the rarest of prodigies
glock on me, r.o.b how the steel k!ll him comically
shots at your top, have you leaking like kaneki
yeah, you my sun but you don’t burn as hot as me

[ham sandwich]
thinkin he better is wishful thinking
poppin the cork and i get to drinking
dripping so hard but i’m never sinking
you isn’t gang, and we never linking

wet up his block, splatoon, i’m inkling
walk with a chop, a n*gga limping
droppin a track and my paper printing
your money small and your paper shrinking

[louverture]
air ‘em all out, i rain h*ll on my oppas
send them to the skies: yip yip, that’s appa
ready to die, these hoes call me big poppa
when sh*t gets hairy this chop roar like chewbacca
(chewbacca roar) n*gga
get what i wish so they mad like croker
smoking on a pack out of davy jones locker
you were at the top but ya flopped, how awkward

[ham sandwich]
n*ggas is stupid and n*ggas is faking
you open their heads, and their cranium vacant
but i only care bout the money i’m making
i get to the bacon, you hatin, i’m raking

the money, your b*tch suck me down like a reagan
you said it was reggie but this is oregano
(n*gga even your weed is fake what the f*ck is wrong with you)

chopper’ll leave him frozen when i let it go
n*ggas so monotone, they need a better flow
i could rap better than them on a metronome
i will not stop till my name is just set in stone

too many b*tches blowing up my telephone
never was sleeping, i ain’t got the melatone (melatonin)
n*gga was talkin shaky, like a tremolo
puttin him in a box, uh, megalo

[louverture]
so many opps on my list
spazz in a jiffy, pour my rage on a jit
life or death? go ahead take your pick
mans choose wrong, then mans lay in a ditch, yeah
call my chopper spyro, it’s gon flame ya, yeah
call my chopper spyro, it’s gon flame ya
word to drake, i’m on my worst behavior
john wick with these bullets man these ain’t just gon’ graze ya
b*tch

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