Bad Santa - Chillinit

«La la la»

Whatever man (It's the old shit like)

Let me just bar the fuck out

That’s how we got here in the first place

Just rap

(Just let me spit, like fuck everything else, fuck the mainstream shit,

imma bar out)

Call me Billy Bob Thornton with the ball, Bad Santa is back

It’s Kris Kringle with a cannabis sack, put my fam on the map

Three Latinas wanna sleep in my bed

On some Zuckerberg shit, I caught her reading my texts so I left (DAMN)

Keeping my shit together like silicone did the plumber

I’m richer than Donald Glover

Motherfucker carry weight, Jay cutler

I’m like Usher with the yeah yeah

Spartan of rap, Gerard Butler is back (you ready?)

Shit got hip to rot my brain

Freaky bitch to do it, dripped in launderette

Tell this woman, that’s my woman, ain’t no woman like my woman

Have her drippin like the necklace on my chain

I get reckless off the J (bass, bass)

Pull up to the crib

Pass dope like brother, my bars potion

And my bars potent as shit, shit

When I flip like the spelling

Still the same baby nah nah nah, Otis Redding

Owen Wilson in the back of my car

Crash a wedding like it’s Hendrix on the riff to guitar, homie shredding the

shit

no body, no more

Call Bobby just to holla and go body this cat

I bring havoc when I body a rap

Call it the Mobb Deep revival cause the prodigy’s back, facts

Bring it back to the scheme and go get it

Wanna press start, pause to the game, they both settings

Thats the word play that’s over your brain

That’s pro levels, but your still save’s dead in it’s lane

You don’t get it, pathetic

All these women claim they love my sound

And bitches still don’t know my lyrics but they love my growl

And bust down with this boy for the decent figure

That’s why I break her off some cheddar like a Bega Stringer like urgh

No wonder rappers swallow my dick

You wan' be pill poppers, probably why you follow a script

I can picture all my haters, they studying all my statements just to hate it

But trust me these boys go follow my shit, that’s sick

And that’s you, I’m a bottomless pit

I take an infinite toke, inhale infinite smoke

This ain’t a plan that I made to be the man with the shit

But im the man to make his family rich, you ain’t a man, you a bitch

Guess what, treat you like I’m Russ

If we talking 'bout the funds, mines really in the trust

If you talking 'bout your funds, yo it’s really bout to bust

Only rapper in the game on his category ones

Getting funds, two decimals and stacks man

Kind of figured that will get you friendly with your tax man, god damn

Sent Jesus on a hike and made the profit climb

Money’s like Christ in three days I make the profit rise

I told em' bro like straight out

It’s bars bro, it’s versatility

It’s business shit, it’s mafioso shit, it’s money shit, it’s family shit

Like, who doing what we’re doing

Like not even saying it like a dickhead, it’s like introduce me to someone

doing what we are doing on a scale we’re doing it

I’ll shave their fucking head

Just fuck me dead

420 fam fuck it, cut the track

Eat a dick