Luyện nghe bài hát Red Christmas

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

Christmas, time for a sadah, maybe your wife
Maybe your daughter, midnight, I land my sleigh
Make way for jolly St.J, climb down the chimney for the
Dressed as the fat man heard of , shimmy down
Shimmy down, the fuck, somebody help 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 Claus
Can't around, now living room, I creep, tiptoes
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 been taken a shit but regardless
I better move now, so I jumped him, Santa's no joke
Fucked around got my damn neck
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 Christmas that you're dead
And the end"

Have a Christmas you fuckin' chump
Seasons greatings loser, yo 2 Dope it

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

Me and him sang in the snowflakes, he ate snowballs
I ate cornflakes and we would freeze our ballz off
I was there time his head fallz off, I put it back 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 melting and I was just
He got and pulled out a nine

If I'm gonna die you should 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

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

'Happy New bitch, boy, hey, I got a new years resolution
For your chicken ass mutha to kiss my mutha 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 and fiddle with my ballz

Yeah, ICP, Southwest forthe life, Christmas
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, down