Twas the nizzle before Christmizzle, when all through the hizzle
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mizzle; fo shizzle
The stocking caps were worn by the homies with care,
In hopes that St. Nizzle soon would be there;
The bitches and hoes were up all snug in their beds,
While visions of bling sparkled on their heads;
And mamma with her swag, and me in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long ass nizzle,
When out on the stoop some bitch came around,
I sprang from my crib, to knock this fool down.
Awizzle to the window I flew like the Flash,
Tore open this bullshit and threw out the trash.
The moon had her fine titties glistening on the snow
Damn son, now I gotta clean this up too yo,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appizzle,
But a tinyass sleigh, and eight tinyass reindizzles,
With a little old pimp, so lively and quick,
Woah wait, hold up one moment, is that St. Nick?!
Faster than shots in a bar his homies they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Yo, Dasher! Hey, Dancer! Damn, Prancer and Vixen!
Yo, come on, Comet, Cupid , Donder and Blitzen!
To the windows! to the walls!
Now run bitches! Run bitches! Goddamn y’all!”
But I heard him shout, fore he flew outta sizzle,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-nizzle.”
Fo shizzle.
No comments:
Post a Comment