[Intro]

(H-H-H-Holiday season)

(Oh, 5StarChrome)

Huh, huh, huh

Bitch it’s the dawg

Fuck you thought it was nigga

Rainman nigga Holiday

[Verse]

My wrist sick my bitch thick my car fast as fuck to

Wide body kit with lips on forgies fuck you’s

I’m grawling down the street sound like I’m tryna squeeze a bus through

Yeen ain’t weight the bag before ya’ left then nigga fuck you

Bad bitch wanna fuck whole time I’m tryna fuck to

Bitch bet not hold me up and eat me up don’t leave my nuts blue

Pockets stuffed I remember eating free lunch food

Dirty as fuck laughed every nigga in the lunch room

They got it in the front bitch I be having trouble finding trunk room

All black back to back we jump out like the trunk crew

She said who yo’ tall homiе with the braids stupid bitch that’s Jew

Bro said the bitch kinda cutе I said bitch that’s you

Broke bitch just asked me for a band stupid bitch I just blew it

Bitch you only had one chance and you damn near blew it

In the club they scream my name in the stands when I step into it

Throw a nickel under hand out my pants let me step into it

I’ll drop a six of that shit I’ll chop and screw you

Papi got that mothafucking’ chicken Cock-A-Doodle-Doo you

Bitch keep on asking what I do bitch what’s it to you?

Neighborhood pusha man you need some I get it to ya’

Auntie came knocking said them people over there looking for you

I had to eight balls left gave auntie her a dub and told her cook em’ for me

Bro a bust you dead in yo’ shit don’t be looking at me

C4 don’t need no reason really at all that nigga trigger happy

Bitch ain’t shit sweet ‘bout me I can’t be ya’ sugar daddy

Nigga think sum sweet up the ARP then we threw it at em’

Catch a opp lacking that’s his ass he gon’ do him badly

My pants sag pockets stuffed with cash bitch I’m really havin’

Every-time I pop out it’s a holiday got my own avenue

Bro ran it up and turned up I ain’t never mad at you

I could turn a thirty one to a deuce bitch this shit magical

I’ll flip that bitch back to back without no spatula

Bitch wan’ give me neck all day like she know Dracula

He ain’t have all the money when he called I said “I’ll get back at cha’”

That box going through TSA so watch how you package it

Fully loaded pistol in my draws bitch watch how you grab it

It’s five in the morning said I be home at nine my bitch mad at me

I’ll drop seven in Chanel I bet she won’t be mad again

All Louie V fit on but it’s not from the mannequin

Swing the Vette’ ‘round the corner like a dunk this bitch got some handling

Nighttime on my block nigga this shit like [?]

Auntie come with all the money than I’mma hand her pills

Nod out and fall asleep on a bitch while I’m standing still

He got shot after I got shot but I’m standing still

‘Round my block ‘ion fear no opps I’m the man for real

Shot for shot he don’t stand a shot I got the bands for real

Back out a honey bun when I want this ain’t a record deal

Drop the top on the ‘Vette bitch I’m a vet for real (Oh, it's Holiday season, nigga)

[Outro: DJ Holiday]

(Shout out to Dawg Shit Records)

(My niggas running that bag up out there I see y’all)

(Rx Papi this that mixtape shit they wanted right)

(Holiday season, nigga)

(You got with the right one nigga)

(The biggest in the game holiday season)(Holiday Season)

(Yeah nigga I see y’all niggas out there you couldn’t [?] this shit)

(It’s too big) (We working, you’re watching)

(This for my boss niggas right here Rx Papi)

(Holiday: The Rise Of The RainMan)