Xanubis – ALL MY HOMIES HATE THE HOLIDAYS (feat. Vazh) Lyrics

Yeah, okay
All my homies hate the holidays
Cause’ we would sleep inside the whip
We ain’t even have no fireplace
Ain’t no food
But we would say grace
Nothing to lose
But we had faith
Let me set the record straight
Serving sleep up on a dinner plate
Laying back
Dreaming bout a future
Where my name’s up on a platinum plaque
I don’t wanna live in a world where I need a strap
Yet I relax, Santa’s coming through with a extra mag
Crimson bag finna take the presents back
Slide into yo chimney
Take yo snacks
And a couple racks
It’s not about how much you make
It’s how you make it last
Yo life expectancy is short
If you look like me
You better watch the way you talk
Before I break yo teeth
And f*ck 12 cause they put my people
Six feet deep
F*ck America
Most of y’all be corporate sheep
F*ck America
Most of y’all be corporate
Okay freeze up
When you see that gun
You a red nose
Robbing the target
I got another console
I ain’t got a tv
That’s what I’m in yo house for
Smoking on some cookies
While my milk is in her tonsils
Y’all at parties we was starving sleep where poverty is
Rain was falling
Ain’t shit jolly Mom said life is a gift
Landlord calling while my grandma call me son of the sin
Angel targets cause the lamb will leak the blood of my kin
Okay
Shoes with the holes, frost bitten souls
No winter coats had to use the stove to heat the home but we evicted
People gotta buy more
Singing Christ lord popping up at my door
Jingle bell rocking
Nigga stop knocking
Tis is the season design it for profit
Bitch I’m tired of the merchants keep feasting off of a fucking hoax
Been lying to my churches, telling them that I keep the hope
Future past and present my present resentment f*ck it bro
Grew up in the church but don’t get it twisted no grace near
Pull up sleigh a nigga I’m letting the bullets rain deer
Rob you for a nickel there ain’t no fucking damn saint here
Do it with no pistol and still producing the same fear
Institution claim I got a bright mind
You won’t catch me in no prison pipeline
Listen to no niggas on the sidelines
The bright eyes hurt my life but it’s fine
They hate while we cultivate it
Then they keep appropriating
With no repayment
I need reparations Jesus not Caucasian
Okay freeze up
When you see that gun
You a red nose
Robbing the target
I got another console
I ain’t got a tv
That’s what I’m in yo house for
Smoking on some cookies
While my milk is in her tonsils
Y’all at parties we was starving sleep where poverty is
Rain was falling
Ain’t shit jolly Mom said life is a gift
Landlord calling while my grandma call me son of the sin
Angel targets cause the lamb will leak the blood of my kin
Okay
Shoes with the holes, frost bitten souls
No winter coats had to use the stove to heat the home but we evicted
People gotta buy more
Singing Christ lord popping up at my door
Jingle bell rocking
Nigga stop knocking
Tis is the season design it for profit