Holiday(Album Version|Explicit) - Ruff Ryders

Holiday (Album Version|Explicit) - Ruff Ryders/Styles
Yeah
L O X ni**a
It don't stop
It keep goin and goin and goin and goin
Motherf**kers
You heard it from the P
You oughta know it's the truth
I get you kidnapped and
Raped and thrown off a roof
You could nod your head to
This like it's only a rap
'Cause when these bullets hit your a**
I'm like it's only a gat
I need a funeral to feel god
I'm hopin it's yours
Think you religious
Heard he got shot in the cross
Holiday Styles
B**ch I broke most of the laws
F**k with the poor so flip to the boots
Stick to the truth
Do anything it takes just to get to this loot
And missin a tooth but both of 'em chipped
Told you the script
You heard about the trouble
I start most of the sh*t
When I squeeze ain't no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the room when
The hear the P flowin with swiss
I'm an ignorant and negative ni**a
I sell crack bust guns pop sh*t
And say I'm better than niggas
You think not I'll look
At your man and level a ni**a
If you think a rapper's
Better why don't you give me his name
So I can run up on him
Tear him up and give you his frame
When it comes to the streets
I'm the ni**a to call
Five eight and three quarters
But I'm bigger than y'all
If I left the gun home
I'ma give you the sword
I'm the devil in the flesh
I can't give you the Lord
It don't make no sense for
You to pray for your life
I got my niggas in the crib
You oughta pray for your wife
Uh huh HOLIDAY
I gotta make it to heaven
For goin through hell
HOLIDAY
And I don't care if I sell
Y'all know what I sell
HOLIDAY
I use my left hand when
I'm loadin the shells
HOLIDAY
'Cause I know it ain't right
That's why I'm blowin a L
Yo I do it all for my niggas
Even ride wit a bomb
Get shot die in his arm
And give him my last
It's a million dollar bail
I'ma get it in cash
I sell crack like it's '88
I live in the past
You know the P carry the gun
Live in the mask
Tell niggas show me the money
And gimme the stash
I like malibu and pineapple
Fifty's of hash
Hundred's of dro
Wear my clothes a week in a row
Sleep on the floor
Catch me right next to the door
I'm Holiday Styles
And that's what the weaponry for
And I probably won't blow for
The fact that I'm hard
But I'm good with ten million
In the back of the car
Either that or get life and lift
The rack in the yard
Gettin jewels from the old timers
Stashin the cards
But jail ain't part of the plans
I keep weight on the scale
'Cause I feel I get further with grams
In my last few bars
I run through niggas like my last few cars
And crash 'em up the boy mighta
Went platinum but don't gas him up
I get his length and his width
And get his casket cut
I don't deal with the snakes and fakes
But I deal with the comas and wakes
I don't make mistakes
Double R now b**ch you
Oughta know I'ma ghost
Blow up your face blow up the coke
And blow up the smoke
HOLIDAY
I gotta make it to heaven
For goin through hell
HOLIDAY
And I don't care if I sell
Y'all know what I sell
HOLIDAY
I use my left hand when
I'm loadin the shells
HOLIDAY
'Cause I know it ain't right
That's why I'm blowin a L
HOLIDAY
I gotta make it to heaven
For goin through hell
HOLIDAY
And I don't care if I sell
Y'all know what I sell
HOLIDAY
I use my left hand when
I'm loadin the shells
HOLIDAY
'Cause I know it ain't right
That's why I'm blowin a L