Holiday Lyrics

(feat. Styles)

Yeah 
L O X nigga 
It don't stop 
It keep goin, and goin, and goin, and goin 
Motherfuckers 

[Styles Paniro] 
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 
Cuz when these bullets hit your ass I'm like it's only a gat 
I need a funeral to feel good, I'm hopin it's yours 
Think you delicious, heard he got shot in the cross 
Holiday Styles, bitch I broke most of the laws 
Fuck with the poor, so flip to the boots, stick to the truth 
Do anything it takes just to give it a slue 
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped 
You heard about the trouble, I start most of the shit 
When I squeeze aint no controllin the wrist 
And niggas leave the room when the hear the P blowin his whis 
I'm an ignorant and negative nigga 
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than niggas 
You think not, I'll look at your man and level a nigga 
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 nigga 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 

[CHORUS: Jadakiss and Styles]
[Jadakiss:] Uh huh, HOLIDAY 
[Styles:] I gotta make it to heaven for goin through hell 
[J:] HOLIDAY 
[S:] And I don't care if I sell, y'all know what I sell 
[J:] HOLIDAY 
[S:] I use my left hand when I'm loadin the shells 
[J:] HOLIDAY 
[S:] Cuz I know it aint right, that's why I'm blowin a L 

[Styles Paniro] 
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even rob 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 dog 
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 aint part of the plans 
I keep weight on the scale cuz 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 bitch you oughta know I'ma ghost 
Blow up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke 

[CHORUS]