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crustified christmas - r.a. the rugged man lyrics

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[verse 1: r.a. the rugged man]
listening to christopher wallace, wait, hold up, it’s the holidays
put on run-dmc, christmas in hollis
and if you’re rocking a yamaka happy hanukkah
there’s icicles hanging from the roof and gutters, and snow on the thermometer
jack frost, he a cold man
snow white ho looking for blow from frosty the snowman
chris greenwood was a b-tch, i kicked him in his big jaws
i visit miss claus, got her clothes ripped off
but that old b-tch got my d-ck soft, now the elves are p-ssed off
santa’s big -ss look like a white rick ross
sugar pancakes, syrup and marshmallows in the hams
i got a pair of puma sneakers, look like mc shan
in school we’d make fun of kids that were jehovah’s witness
cause they couldn’t celebrate halloween, birthdays and christmas
now i’m kissing the cl-t, it bleeded, what the h-ll, gross
come out the p-ssy looking like rudolph with the red nose
train sets, toy trucks from tonka, italianos mangia
my black people light a candle for kwanzaa
i don’t care if i get coal for stocking stuffers
i’mma find santa’s little helpers and midget talk the motherf-ckers

[hook: r.a. the rugged man]
go jesus, it’s your birthday!
go jesus, it’s your birthday!
go jesus, it’s your birthday!
go jesus, go jesus!

[verse 2: r.a. the rugged man]
sleigh bells jing-jingaling, front door ring-dingaling
kids singing in the bling-bling sickening
d-fl!cks, silent night, deadly night, church picketing
hannukah menorah candle light fl!ckering
families bickering, let me spin the hot bar
rockstar, where my muslims? allah akbar!
want a walkman, a vcr, wait, time out
i want a red ryder bb gun to shoot my eye out
the big christmas picture is ridiculous
santa claus is based on a catholic bishop named saint nicholas
years before he was at the north pole chilling
he was rumoured to resurrect the bodies of mutilated children
but it’s christmas and my little niece got bieber fever
i’m in l.a, i’ll pick her up the cd at amoeba
i hate to bring in the new year with a dark side
but who gon’ drop the ball in times square now that d-ck clark died

[hook]

[verse 3: mac lethal]
c’mon, get poor or die tryin’
consumerism is a new religion for the people in stores that lie crying
praying, just wishing for a great sale
traded in my ’64 to listen to the sleigh bells
f-ck it, it’s a holidays b-tch
i ain’t buying any presents, i’mma walk away rich
i mean i’m satan claus, i’m a selfish f-ck
i ain’t giving any gifts to these helpless schmucks
should i smack grandma or let her talk instead
b-tch looks like she belongs on the walking dead
i can’t stuff her when words are in her mouth
i listen to that talking head, when i be burning down the house
i flame “f-ck” to the mammoth elephant
the hammer fell, and then i cooked a little honey ham and gelatine
i blast, i burn in your heart, three dudes ringing your bell
hoping they’re tools like nebraska furniture mart
oooooooh sh-t!
a lotta hippie b-tches take molly, looking stupid with the glow sticks
you people never seen a boy like this
i punch your baby momma in the f-cking muay thai clinch
you need to stop looking at the toys i get
i’m the grinch penny-pinching every coin i flip
i’m a hip-hop head, i ain’t a hipster person
that watches the office the british version
(go jesus!) i’ll take you on a big excursion
hopefully i’ll get the words in
the last year santa ate the cookies and he dropped down the whiskey
so i’mma clap his -ss when he come down the chimney
(go jesus!) huh, it’s the exorcist
are you a naughty -ss b-tch? let me check my list
i drink jesus blood, and tell him to bless my p-ss
mac lethal, rugged man, here’s your x-mas gift!

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