holiday songwars Video (MV)

Aye, yea
Aye, yea
Aye, aye
Yea
Just like I'm santa, that door getting kicked down
Lock in with twin, we both getting rich now
Shawty wasn't choosing, she wanna pick now
Link at the crib, and she getting dicked down
I really got that bag on me like santa
Pour up a two, that's a deuce in my fanta
Y'all be some muhf*ckin jokes, no standup
Dukes been tellin me"Boy just man up"
Blunt smoke smell like a christmas tree
Lockin in early, get rich with me
My lil brudda movin them bricks for me
My lil shoota toting them sticks for me
Why that boy talkin shit, he a fan
I had to go get my bands up
Now she like"boy you the man"
Swear they be talkin' a lot till I roll up
F*ck it, I'm pourin more tris in my soda
I cannot wait till the day that I blow up
F*ck it, I put the city on my shoulders
Ima just walk in alone, f*ck the bag up
Really be scoring, I'm padding my stats up
Six deep, we bouta jump out a black truck
I'm tryna see red, Ian talkin no ketchup
The way I get money it don't even matter
We having gen five's, we got Beretta
I had to get to that chicken and cheddar
I had to get to that cheese and lettuce
But I ain't forgetting bout getting my bread up
But I ain't forgetting bout
Aye, aye
I'm havin' shots for you, and you, and you, and you
Everyone shot down
They chattin' we bringin them glocks out
Bitch I'm on go, I can't stop now
Ho want smoke like a hotbox
Me and shawty connect like a hotspot
Got a model who givin' me lockjaw
I'm on top now, they can't stop nun
I dig in ya hoe like yea
Been living like this for the whole damn year
I hand em a loss, you could hold that, yea
Three.5 grams in a big ass blunt
Ion say much ho, I just stunt
I'm feelin festive, smoke on runtz
This shit ain't nun, y'all my sons
Y'all just be talkin, like nigga get money
Talkin bout hits, boy you ain't got one
Talkin' bout guns, boy you ain't got none
I'm with ya hoe and she keep saying more, more, more