| An igloo full of snow and a white stove
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| House full of naked hoes snortin' blow
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| It’s so lonely at the top, plus its real cold
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| A house full of hoes and they cookin' blow
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| I’m in Zone Six aka the North Pole
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| Burr! |
| EA, GA
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| 1−0-1−7, Wop, six
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| Middle of the winter I pull up in a vert
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| It’s the middle of December she pulled up in a skirt
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| Santa Claus of the hood
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| I pull up with the work
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| They call me East Atlanta Santa
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| Run up on me get murked
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| I’m just trappin' through the snow
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| Sellin' nine half a bricks in four ways
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| Over the hills we go
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| Got an extendo and an AK (gra, gra, gra)
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| I’m a neighborhood philanthropist
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| I’m sellin' bales of cannabis
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| Preachin' like an evangelist
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| But I don’t fuck with amateurs
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| I drive spiders, yeah, tarantulas
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| My diamonds are immaculate
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| I’m not on no romantic shit
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| But I’m cookin' cocaine, candle lit
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| I’m so trill, your ho can’t handle it
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| But damn, that bitch can suck a dick
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| Skeeted on her face and lip
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| Guwop can’t fuck no basic bitch
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| The teacher teachin' arithmetic
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| Show you how to whip a brick
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| Learn you how you run your clique
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| And told you how to kill a snitch
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| My young girl she a freaky chick
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| But damn she on that sneaky shit
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| Ran off with a half a zip
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| And now I got to slap a trick
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| All these record labels broke as shit
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| Ricky Dinky record shit
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| I sell more meth than a Mexican
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| My dog food yea its excellent
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| I done started sellin' Christmas tree
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| I’m tryna jingle bells ho
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| Its Christmas time its Hollis, Queens
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| I’m stompin' in my shell toes
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| Christmas time in '96
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| I asked Santa for twelve golds
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| But now Guwop got gifts to give
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| But I don’t fuck with twelve though
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| Santa Claus in the city, bag full of goodies
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| I wish these faggot-ass cops would let a nigga live
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| I’m tryna come down the chimney with a 100 mil
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| I’m the Bricksquad boss I’m like Santa Claus |