Black Santa

[Intro]

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)

[Hook]

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

[Verse]

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