Chillinit – Bad Santa

Chillinit – Bad Santa Lyrics

Artist: Chillinit
Song: Bad Santa

Yeah man (It’s that sh#t, man i ain’t give a f#ck)
Australia stand up (It’s just a buzz, This the buzz sh#t, this the evolution)
Man f#ck all the chorus b#llsh#t (f#ck everything bro)
“La la la”

Whatever man (It’s the old sh#t like)
Let me just bar the f#ck out
That’s how we got here in the first place
Just rap

(Just let me spit, like f#ck everything else, f#ck the mainstream sh#t, imma bar out)
Call me Billy Bob Thornton with the ball, Bad Santa is back
It’s Kris Kringle with a cannabis sack, put my fam on the map
Three Latinas wanna sleep in my bed

On some Zuckerberg sh#t, I caught her reading my texts so I left (DAMN)
Keeping my sh#t togethеr like silicone did the plumbеr
I’m richer than Donald Glover
m#th*rf#ck*r carry weight, Jay cutler

I’m like Usher with the yeah yeah
Spartan of rap, Gerard Butler is back (you ready?)
sh#t got hip to rot my brain
Freaky b#tch to do it, dripped in launderette

Tell this woman, that’s my woman, ain’t no woman like my woman
Have her drippin like the necklace on my chain
I get reckless off the J (bass, bass)
Pull up to the crib

Pass dope like brother, my bars potion
And my bars potent as sh#t, sh#t
When I flip like the spelling
Still the same baby nah nah nah, Otis Redding

Owen Wilson in the back of my car
Crash a wedding like it’s Hendrix on the riff to guitar, homie shredding the sh#t
[?] no body, no more
Call Bobby just to holla and go body this cat

I bring havoc when I body a rap
Call it the Mobb Deep revival cause the prodigy’s back, facts
Bring it back to the scheme and go get it
Wanna press start, pause to the game, they both settings

Thats the word play that’s over your brain
That’s pro levels, but your still save’s dead in it’s lane
You don’t get it, pathetic
All these women claim they love my sound

And b#tches still don’t know my lyrics but they love my growl
And bust down with this boy for the decent figure
That’s why I break her off some cheddar like a Bega Stringer like urgh
No wonder rappers swallow my dick

You wan’ be pill poppers, probably why you follow a script
I can picture all my haters, they studying all my statements just to hate it
But trust me these boys go follow my sh#t, that’s sick
And that’s you, I’m a bottomless pit

I take an infinite toke, inhale infinite smoke
This ain’t a plan that I made to be the man with the sh#t
But im the man to make his family rich, you ain’t a man, you a b#tch
Guess what, treat you like I’m Russ

If we talking ’bout the funds, mines really in the trust
If you talking ’bout your funds, yo it’s really bout to bust
Only rapper in the game on his category ones
Getting funds, two decimals and stacks man

Kind of figured that will get you friendly with your tax man, god damn
Sent Jesus on a hike and made the profit climb
Money’s like Christ in three days I make the profit rise
I told em’ bro like straight out

It’s bars bro, it’s versatility
It’s business sh#t, it’s mafioso sh#t, it’s money sh#t, it’s family sh#t
Like, who doing what we’re doing
Like not even saying it like a dickhead, it’s like introduce me to someone doing what we are doing on a scale we’re doing it

I’ll shave their f#cking head
Just f#ck me dead
420 fam f#ck it, cut the track
Eat a dick
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com

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Chillinit Lyrics – Bad Santa

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Release Year: 2021