Freddy Js
Peezy, Westside Gunn
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Holiday season Yo, Nineteen in the FN one in the head Holiday season bitch You know who it is, DJ Holiday As I sip my Pino Grigio on you broke ass niggas I was just wondering did you miss me? Yo, Nineteen in the FN one in the head Sleep good every night, all them niggas is dead Can't nobody f*ck with me, nigga I said Hellcat red and the Maybach red New rover red and the G wagon red Few hit his dreads, hit his chest, hit his legs Came to f*ck your bitch on the jet, I'm a player Virgil gave me this, I ain't even gon' wear it Switches make these dirty muh'fuckas get to sprayin' Niggas crawling under cars, seen a couple niggas prayin' Still got them shits duck taped, I'm the man (I'm the man) I could change your life with thirty grand All these diamonds on me, they don't even understand I'm a eastside nigga, Freddy J with the pan (whip) Seen him on Chippewa, shit hit the fan Then I sped off in a lamb with Big Lan Same niggas hating, they was fans, they was fans Hit every house on his block, I ain't playing (Bop, bop, bop, bop, bop) I'm just saying, do you hear that? Holiday season You know it's some real street shit going on, Westside Gunn Ayo Peezy, get 'em! Ghetto Boyz, we with that gangsta shit Pull up spank a bitch Might just slime you out, need a handkerchief They come when you least expect it, you gotta be thinkin' quick I'm out here chasing my dreams I came a long way, I was chasing fiends You and me in a different league My pants is Katie's Chrome Heart jeans (fuckboy) Might see me out shopping in Paris I'm buying this shit and might not even wear it Too much Rick Owens, don't know what to wear I'm not wearing Amiri, got too many pairs The room I'm at is a thousand a night Gotta call security to get upstairs Told my ho if you f*ck me tonight I'm taking you shopping and pay for your hair If I ever send niggas to get you They going up top, they ain't grazing your lid When the feds snatched me off the plane I told him let's do it, I'm sleepy as hell Know some niggas who sick that I'm winning you know And it's f*ck 'em, I tell 'em get well My crib so muh'fucking big, I made the wrong turn and get lost upstairs They ever get wind 'bout shit that we did, we getting the chair I put out the word, ain't nobody spared He blow off your head, he cut off his dreads I come from nothing to something, I hold my wrist in the air I'm celebrating, call that ghetto elevation I got rich, no education nigga Catch my nigga in the UK, Dolce & Gabbana robe and shit Might be with yo bitch Holiday season, Westside Gunn Classic
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Written by: Alvin Worthy, Phillip Peaks
Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Freddy Js Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 Oct. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/13086092/Westside+Gunn/Freddy+Js>.
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