Luyện nghe bài hát Red Christmas

Jiggle my mutha fucken balls,
Insane Clown is back in this mutha fucka
Hey yo, J, whats up?

Christmas, time for a sadah, maybe your wife
Maybe daughter, it's midnight, I land my sleigh
way for jolly St.J, climb down the chimney for the murder
Dressed as the fat man heard of , shimmy down
Shimmy down, what the fuck, somebody help me, I'm

Now, what to do, I feel whack, I got stuck in a stack
But I hack and shimmer on Santa Claus Clown
fuck around, now living room, I creep, tiptoes
'Cuz they asleep, I pulled out the axle and down the hall
I got a gift for all of

What's that, I better quick, oh fuck, it's the real St.Nick
And he must've been a shit but regardless
I better move quick now, so I jumped him, no joke
around got my damn neck broke
He strap, he shot, he miss gunshots, ho, ho, ho
I had a red

"I'm dreaming of a dead Christmas, the kind you'll never again
'Cuz if you have a dead that means you're dead
And the end"

Have a merry Christmas you chump
greatings loser, yo 2 Dope kick it

Jack Frost nibbles, ha, but that I ain't got a home
So he on my nut sack and my butt crack, toes and elbows
My nutz is froze, you hoes, so I made a friend like me
A snow man, he was down with the clown a blow man
Had a hat and eyes charcoal and a pipe, we fill it with endow

Me and him songs in the snowflakes, he ate snowballs
I ate cornflakes and we both freeze our ballz off
I was there every time his fallz off, I put it back on for him
With a smile, he was my boy, made from a snow
the storm came, a blizzard, snow, wind, ice, a blizzard
We through we hid in an alley, the next day
It was like sunny

He was melting and I was fine
He got and pulled out a nine

If I'm gonna die you should come with me we boyz
It hit me, I'm dying, I'm dead he got his wish
And all I got was another red

night, Violent fight, now I'm dead one to the head
Christmas year seemed so whack

'Happy New Year' bitch, boy, hey, I got a new years
For your chicken ass mutha to kiss my fucken ass

Jingle bellz, bellz, jingle all the way
your fucken mom up if the ICP don't play
Hey, Wicked Clowns, Wicked
Bitches, drop your
Don't talk back just suck my sack and fiddle my ballz

Yeah, ICP, forthe life, Christmas time
what I'm sayin' Mr.Chris Cringle, you fat bitch
Mutha fucka came, shit, I'm a slap your across
Your red ass face mutha fucka, Southwest