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