Posting a night early since we are going out of town.
Merry Christmas all.
Twas da night before Christmas, down in da hood
A large race of people, so misunderstood.
The drugs were stashed, in the couches with care
In hopes that da coppers, wouldn't find them there.
Babies Yolanda and Leroy, snug in their cribs
The toddlers dreadlocks, down to their bibs.
And mamma in her panties, and me in my beater
We?re about to get busy, like that Cosby cheater.
When all of sudden, this fly ride rolled by
The music so hip hop, I started to cry.
I moved to the window, my nine in hand
Who was this dude, in food stamp land?
When what to my bloodshot eyes, did appear
But a low rider limo, dragging its rear.
With the driver pimped out, in a suit and bling
I knew his presence, could mean only one thing.
He thew up a sign to the boyz, called them by name
With their hands in the air, from the projects they came:
Now, DeShawn! now Marques, now Darnell and Tyrone
On Trevon and Terrell, your boy Sharpton is home.
From the top of his ride, he began to rant
If he could speak English, he would but he can't.
As he spewed his garbage, the hatred grew
Inciting a riot, against the boys in blue.
It's all about Brown, and black vs. white
With the division of colors, it?ll never be right.
Then out of his duffle, he pulled out a bang
Threatening to use it, on a rival gang.
Down the dark alley, the enemy fled
He raised his weapon, one would be dead.
But a 1000 yards, it was out of his reticle
And to shoot at that distance, would be unethical.
With his close-set eyes, he looked so sinister
Who could trust, this Baptist rat minister?
Then he strolled to his ride, the rims still spinning
He?d been to the brothel, and done some sinning.
I saw him leave, with a hooch on hip lap
With a case of malt liquor, and his flat brim cap.
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight -
?What's wrong with America, is it's to damn white.?
Merry Christmas all.
Twas da night before Christmas, down in da hood
A large race of people, so misunderstood.
The drugs were stashed, in the couches with care
In hopes that da coppers, wouldn't find them there.
Babies Yolanda and Leroy, snug in their cribs
The toddlers dreadlocks, down to their bibs.
And mamma in her panties, and me in my beater
We?re about to get busy, like that Cosby cheater.
When all of sudden, this fly ride rolled by
The music so hip hop, I started to cry.
I moved to the window, my nine in hand
Who was this dude, in food stamp land?
When what to my bloodshot eyes, did appear
But a low rider limo, dragging its rear.
With the driver pimped out, in a suit and bling
I knew his presence, could mean only one thing.
He thew up a sign to the boyz, called them by name
With their hands in the air, from the projects they came:
Now, DeShawn! now Marques, now Darnell and Tyrone
On Trevon and Terrell, your boy Sharpton is home.
From the top of his ride, he began to rant
If he could speak English, he would but he can't.
As he spewed his garbage, the hatred grew
Inciting a riot, against the boys in blue.
It's all about Brown, and black vs. white
With the division of colors, it?ll never be right.
Then out of his duffle, he pulled out a bang
Threatening to use it, on a rival gang.
Down the dark alley, the enemy fled
He raised his weapon, one would be dead.
But a 1000 yards, it was out of his reticle
And to shoot at that distance, would be unethical.
With his close-set eyes, he looked so sinister
Who could trust, this Baptist rat minister?
Then he strolled to his ride, the rims still spinning
He?d been to the brothel, and done some sinning.
I saw him leave, with a hooch on hip lap
With a case of malt liquor, and his flat brim cap.
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight -
?What's wrong with America, is it's to damn white.?
