Lyrics:
a nigga tearing
Wipe the eyes if you crying
Holiday spent quiet
Holiday's pretty quiet
I didn't have you under my tree this Christmas
But I had you
looked around, and I couldn't believe this
I swear, I stared, my niece my witness
The brother had it goin' on with somethin' kinda, uh
Wicked, wicked
please take your aim at me
Cherish the thought
Of always having you here by my side
Cherish the joy
You keep bringing it into my life
Cherish your
didn't though
But I looked pretty sus tryin' to act like
Nothin' was goin' on but didn't matter
Because I got some new J's and I
Had a Big Ass Chicken
American Express
I'm a mess, never-the-less
I'm authentic
Ninety-nine percent B-K
One percent N-J
Excuse me
Cause what I'm tryin to say
Is if you
a holiday, I was steppin to the beat
I had to pay my rent, on the lower east side
I threw my tag around, let B-boys take me for a ride
I started writing
a holiday, I was steppin' to the beat
I had to pay my rent, on the lower East side
I threw my tag around, let b-boys take me for a ride
I started writing
they're stung by the rapping ranger
Had a little talk with my medicine man
He said, "Get them squaws, fast as you can"
To all you girls, that want
of course it's me
I'm better known as the Master G
A firing squad, sensed the danger
When they're stung by the rapping ranger
Had a little talk with my
never leave
And boy, you do your best
'Cause you're the reason that I breathe
And sometimes we gon' fight
But by the end of the night, I humble myself
had busted the game
Wide open
Women love me
Now I got Oprah Fame
Girl let me love you Toast u
In front of an open flame
Cuz you so elegant
Take you out
even still
Sack or bag of troubles, make the single double
Loop the coin and join the minimum wage
I had a plan if I was the man, I'd throw the J
Lay
on
She had another buddy, came by my place
Thick ass bitch, said her name was Grace
She walked in the door wearin' a lace
You shoulda seen that look
they're stung by the rapping ranger
Had a little talk with my medicine man
He said, "Get them squaws, fast as you can"
To all you girls, that want
3-out, me, weed and the beat sound
Blunt lit indoors and I see cloud
Might seem unfit how I breathe loud
Might hit in the broad day
Light J's on the walk
ain't even gon' sweat her
Rick Flare, I stay jumpin' off the dresser
Betcha ass ain't never felt better
Ain't never met a nigga make ya azz more wetter
twist!
That didn't quite go the way
We thought it would
You see, in 9th grade
A little girl who had never sung in front of
People before asked her parents
tottin'
Real Niggas only around me the Only thing I'm molding
Hard body bitch
I'm never folding
Bitch betcha I keep it holding
Poppin that bitch til
Had to flip that to a hunnid stacks
Niggas talkin' that crazy shit
I left and I ain't never went back
I stayed in that Palisades
Chillin' in all that
a holiday, I was steppin' to the beat
I had to pay my rent, on the lower East side
I threw my tag around, let b-boys take me for a ride
I started writing
The halls were filled with publicists and
Escorts who had to pretend not
To be dazzled by those
They were escorting minaj
Had walked in a few minutes before
gone switch up I expect it
Now A days she call me for she text me
Member I was sleeping in that Jetta
Now a days I pull up in the Lexus
J. Stew I drop
Lil' Dro been 'bout this money, I spoil her, no holiday (I spoil her, no holiday)
Drunk off the Henny, I'm missing you, by the way (oh, I'm missing you,
'Cause it was Bell Biv DeVoe, playing on my radio
And I had Wu-Tang Clan living in my stereo
Mama said we're 6th generation Oregonians
I was rocking
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