Ham Sandwich - Ghost 2

★ Intro ★
Ghost

★ Verse 1: Ham Sandwich ★
Rolled the dice and took a few gambles
Spliced enough money together to get me some new samples (Ghost)
I got a SCAR that could get you trampled
Slurring all your words in the fade, we getting you canceled (Damn, damn)
You'll be looking for a new handle
My chopper got titties, it's classifying as a new mammal (Brr, wuh)
Looking for the smoke, I got a few camels
All the wrong reasons, they seeing him on the news channel

★ Bridge: Ham Sandwich ★
Like, damn, say it ain't so (Like, damn, say it ain't so)
Got all this pressure upon me, but I ain't never gon' fold (I ain't never gon' fold)
So many secrets I'm keeping, but no, I ain't ever told (I ain't never told)
This money a nigga making, but no, I ain't never sold out, nah (Sold out nah)

★ Verse 2: Ham Sandwich ★
I been in the stu, cooking heat up when it's cold out
The family stressing, I told 'em hold out
I know we finna make it, and that's no doubt
I'll pop in this shit, it'll be a blow out
So let me get my flows out
Until a nigga flown out
But I can't even go out
Corona demotivating, but still, I need to show out
I know that I'm so amazing, but still, I need to slow down
'Cause I'm getting hella faded, distilling all my thoughts into sumn that I can translate
I'm keeping away from coffins, I'm following mandates
That's six feet from six feet 'cause six feet could be six deep
Assist me with this speech
My wrist needs a big freeze
Ya get me?
Bitch, please
I give her ass a big squeeze (Yuh)
I smack that, but don't kiss me (Yuh)
I'm cat trapping with Nidalee (Yuh)
These rats rapping like Biggie Cheese (Yuh)
I clap back and it's history (Yuh)
He back battling in Little League (Yuh)
They don't know where a nigga be (Yuh)
I'm ghost with it (Woo)
But nowadays with the music, I'm coast-to-coast with it (Yessir)
And if you fell in my fire, you'd probably roast in it
Toast in it
Most in it
Never make it out alive (Damn)
Hope you got fucks left to give 'cause I'm out of mine

★ Verse 2: Aerial Ace ★
You better give me space 'cause I ain't got fucking time
Somebody out of line? Then they running out of lines
Bar none, dotted line
Cut off, bottom line
I been this way, no sound design could ever reroute my mind
We reaching The Great Divide
The chauffeur my hand spasm
It's Manhattan, bet a big apple, you sand napping
I damn atoms
Pull a python, make yo' land chasm
Have man fathom hand-to-handing God, ain't no phantasm
His clan tagging
Nigga, play within yo' bracket, you don't want these fucking taxes
You gon' have to pay the ratchet in spirit
I'm opening phantom accounts, who knew my pistol was a poltergeist?
I'm ghost busting, copping bodies, they fear it