Texty: Trick Daddy. Ain't No Santa.

Turn it up, Because I have something to say ya'll
Ya'll pay attention ova there Repersenting Page County
You know what I'm saying?
Everybody doin songs talking about what they got
And they jewelry and they cars
I'm gonna talk about something eles we never had shit, we real

And there damn sure ain't no Santa Clause because, if it was
Like Santa we would be having a Thingsgiving dinner
while ya'll was dreaming of a white Christmas
I was out chillen wit my niggaz out spilling trying to make a living
And if I robbed for a million
I just hope God would forgive me after I spent it on his children
See I was born in the struggle
89 stepdaddy's me and my mother and ten others
Let's see thats three sisters and 7 brothers
All we had was each other and or daddy because I love him
I never seen a flying reindeer
So if Rudolph called dog ya'll just tell him I ain't here
And I ain't the grinch who like to steal Christmas
But if you pay attenion you'll learn a lesson just listen
See I believe dat the children know our future
But if you don't raise them right they'll grow up and shoot cha

Ya'll best beleave that all these lies you know what I'm saying?
Fibb's and all des story's be like history one month out the year you know?
All dat walking Martin Luther King did and they only gave him justice one time
You tried to frame OJ and beat the shit out of Rodney King? Hell

I was born amongst racism
That's why the police hate me and I can see it in their faces
Yeah they wanna give nigga cases
And they wanna see me in jail hell they can't wait to take me
Wanna hog tie me and take my bar
Take me off around Christmas cracker don't make me run
If you know the moral to the words of this song
What about the words of Rodney King "Can't we all get along?"
Huh cause niggas just when I nervous back
Matter fact saying those ova there where them terorist and they ain't coming back
Til Bin Laden and all thoes fighters are found dead
Shoot up in the mountins of Airkida

I'd kill all dem motherfuckers every last one of them all them son of a bitches
All them funny names motherfuckers disrespecting my country and my people
I wish ya'll would get yo fuck ass out of my face
Free at last my ass Mr. President you ain't even press me
You ain't even get them to justice yet, you better go get 'em

Mr. President tell me why my people doin bad
Some blacks wit no dads doin bad shooting bad
And fo sho getting a limo got a wardrobe
And I'm stuck wearing dis niggaz clothes
Hell I go to school and dem teachers straight dog me
I try to learn but my brain just wont
I'm not dumb but mad and sad which I should be
You tried framing me
I'm forced to live wit out a job or work at McD's
Or I could rob Circuit City and get 5 or 3
Slang a 'caine its no thing, but I'm scared to of tab
And if you think I'm gonna change you can kiss my ass

I just wanna say use that enough for personal use, only personal use only
No capital a finces no way forst degree misdemeanors haha
And there damn sure ain't no Santa Clause haha
And there sure ain't no Santa Clause you snitching bitches
I'm gonna smoke one on ya