Styles P, Max B - Holiday lyrics
[Styles P, Max B - Holiday lyrics]
Due time you'll see the sunshine if
You sleep in the rain
I ain't tryin to weather the storm
I get over the clouds and I
Ain't talkin 'bout flyin a plane
I'm in the slums where the guns is
Niggas sell crack to get hundreds
- I mean thousands
I seen European cars by housing
I seen shinin on your block, I'm just browsin
Fo'-five make you get free
My London niggas say, "You get me?" I say
"I got you" rude boy, they better watch you
Too hot to handle, too cold to hold
When I was young they used to
Say I had a older soul
Only death can make the soldiers fold
Comin down, hit the floor, let go
All my soldiers roll
You get hit then your soul let go, let's go
(Let's go) We pop shots off at your bean
D-Block, Byrd Gang, that's the team
(team team) big fifth make you move back
Go against them
You don't really wanna do that
Them got that yay it's a holiday
(holiday baby)
If you fuck with my money then
You might as well pay
Handgun and the rifle
And a knife too, shit just that trifle
Get blood from your ice to your Nike boots
Head cracked like the dice do
I don't squeal nor squeak like the mice do
I get hype too
Come through the block and light you
Like a cigarette
You ain't seen a harder nigga yet
Hit you like a Nicorette
Off a lion nigga pick a pet
I mean pick a beast
I run the city nigga pick a street
Matter fact you could pick a beef
I'm old school we can shoot it out
Pick a heat fuck you!
(Let's go) We pop shots off at your bean
D-Block, Byrd Gang, that's the team
(team team) big fifth make you move back
Go against them
You don't really wanna do that
Them got that yay it's a holiday
(holiday baby)
If you fuck with my money then
You might as well pay
I get ya, get the picture?
I'm the painter, you the painted
Talkin shit when you ain't shit
I'm five-star, you ain't ranked kid
I'm major, fuck the majors, fuck the label
And take that to the bank kid
It's the Ghost or the Phantom
Killin rappers at random without a handgun
Can't stand him i'm too nice, I'm too hot
You don't wanna drop from the
Top of the rooftop
Turn the mic up, turn the beat up
SP the Ghost still keep the fuckin booth hot
(Let's go) We pop shots off at your bean
D-Block, Byrd Gang, that's the team
(team team) big fifth make you move back
Go against them
You don't really wanna do that
Them got that yay it's a holiday
(holiday baby)
If you fuck with my money then
You might as well pay