Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Black Santa, artist - Freeway. Album song Black Santa EP, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.11.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Black Santa |
Black Santa, Black Santa, Black Santa, Black Santa… |
Bitches, bitches, vicious style… |
(Children snoring, voices calling…) |
Team Early! |
(Comin' out a happy New Year…) |
Happy Holidays, Statik Selektah |
Statik, what up? |
(Children singing, Santa’s bringing…) |
(Santa's brining lots of cheer…) |
Black Santa, we here |
(Ho, ho, ho — ho, ho, ho, ho…) |
(I have the feeling of Christmas!) |
Okay! |
(Hi) |
It’s Black Santa — still deliver the gift to rap fans, but |
Prior to this, on December 25th, on the morning shift |
Gave fee nicks to crack addicts |
It’s Black Santa — still deliver the gift to rap fans, but |
Prior to this, on December 25th, on the morning shift |
Gave fee nicks to crack addicts |
Court cases, never ratted — stand-up dudes don’t take the stand |
They sleepin' on me, time to awake your fam' |
Down the chimney with the semi I came with black 'matics |
It’s Black Santa — still deliver the gift to rap fans, but |
Way before this, after the Christmas platter |
My folks played Snakes & Ladders and backgammon |
Under the tree, filled up, gifts from my grandma |
Drawers, T-shirts, tube socks from my aunt |
Those was a little bummy, didn’t have a lot of money |
But I was blessed, I still had both of my parents |
I feel honored, I still got 'em |
A few years ago my father took shahada |
Watched him go to Mecca with Mos Def and Lupe |
Kingdom of Saudis said don’t sweat they goddess |
Big beard, when we travel people spot us |
Best flow, but I’m tryin' to keep it modest, I’m a king |
So I gotta keep it polished, I’m a target, so I gotta keep a burner |
Learned that from Pac and Chris Wallace |
I’m from the city where if your shit’s stylish |
People follow you home to get your dollars |
Then y’all shoot it out like wild cowboys |
Only thing is, they’ll never make it to Dallas |
We from the bottom like the kitchen floor |
And my flow like it came out the bottle, this shit’s polished |
I lost a lot of niggas to the war |
'Fore I made a million dollars niggas wind up in the morgue |
Never got to make it to the awards |
Never got to go on tour |
Couldn’t even see my two kids born |
My neighborhood’s ridiculous, sicker than Sycamore |
Down at the district, my face on the picture board |
Now I got my weight up, my face on the big screen |
I got my dough right |
I brought my homies off they triples, I had to clip 'em |
Them niggas be wantin' more |
My beard long, my money long |
A million broke niggas won’t get along |
That’s right my beard long, and my bread long |
Verse sickening, that’s what I’m stuntin' on a Christmas song |