Bad Santa

It's Christmas time
We're sipping wine
This chick is fine
Come and slide on my North Pole
You've been a bad girl
Santa bring you more coal
In these streets my name ring bells
Oh yeah they all know
In the sheets
I got her tapping out like Morse Code
I don't know why
Sex is always where my thoughts go
This is supposed to be
A Christmas song
We gonna light the trees up
We 'bout to hit this bong
Pussy wrapped up with a bow
I'm bout to rip this thong
She said she's never, ever
Ridden on a dick this long
Woah
Treating the clitoris
Like it was liquorice
Got done
And asked her what's on her Christmas list
She said she want some thicker lips
And some bigger tits
I told her, baby you fine
Don't be ridiculous
That coochie's like silk
Now go and fetch some cookies and milk
Or maybe hand me a brandy
Already too many spilt
We can just, watch a movie
Roll a doobie and chill
Having such a wicked way with words
Is truly a skill

They call me bad Santa
This is your last chance to
Sit in my lap
But only if you're a lap dancer
Deliver gifts
And then I empty my sack after
Big bag of that Grinch
Puffing on mad ganja
Oh yeah
They call me bad Santa
See me dressed in all black
Looking like Black Panther
Couple strippers
Donner, Blitzen and that's Prancer
Every twenty fourth of December
I'm back at ya

Don't let the kiddies hear this
Tell them to go and play
She getting dressed to the nines
She bout to go and slay
I'm vibing, drunk driving
While riding a one horse open sleigh
A white Christmas
And I ain't talking a snowy day
I might sniff this
Entire bag of blow away
And I won't need Rudolf's nose
To show the way
He can take the night off
Chill out and roll a J
Got Mrs. Claus up front
Sucking my soul away
Only gifts that I'm rapping though
Are these verses really
Frisbeeing mixtapes out
To every person near me
You might wake up
Catch Mummy kissing Santa Claus
And I'm gonna give her
Everything that she's been asking for
She wants to see my baubles baby
And the candy cane
There's snow outside
But in the bed, there's a chance of rain
Gold watch, matching chain
With the classic Jays
I bent her back, empty sack
You know that Santa came

They call me bad Santa
This is your last chance to
Sit in my lap
But only if you're a lap dancer
Deliver gifts
And then I empty my sack after
Big bag of that Grinch
Puffing on mad ganja
Oh yeah
They call me bad Santa
See me dressed in all black
Looking like Black Panther
Few more strippers
Cupid, Vixen and that's Dancer
Every twenty fourth of December
I'm back at ya



Credits
Writer(s): M. Hand
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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