Luyện nghe bài hát Red Christmas

Jiggle my fucken balls, bitch
Insane Clown Posse is back in this fucka
Hey yo, Violent J, up?

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

Now, what to do, I feel whack, I got stuck in a chimney
But I hack and shimmer on down Santa Clown
Can't fuck around, now living room, I creep,
they asleep, I pulled out the axle and slid down the hall
I got a for all of y'all

What's that, I hide quick, oh fuck, it's the real St.Nick
And he must've been a shit but regardless
I move quick now, so I jumped him, Santa's no joke
around got my damn neck broke
He strap, he shot, he didn't gunshots, ho, ho, ho
I had a red

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

Have a merry Christmas you fuckin'
Seasons greatings loser, yo 2 kick it

Jack Frost nibbles, ha, but fuck I ain't got a home
So he on my nut sack and my butt crack, toes and elbows
My is froze, fuck 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 outta charcoal and a pipe, we fill it with

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 head fallz off, I put it on for him
With a smile, he was my boy, made a snow pile
Then the storm came, a blizzard, snow, wind, ice, a
We pulled through we hid in an alley, the day
It was like sunny

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, ICP, Southwest life, Christmas time
what I'm sayin' Mr.Chris Cringle, you fat bitch
Mutha never came, shit, I'm a slap your across
Your red ass face mutha fucka, Southwest