HOLIDAY [Styles:] I gotta make it to heaven for goin through hell [Jadakiss:] HOLIDAY [Styles:] And I don't care if I sell, y'all know what I sell [Jadakiss:] HOLIDAY [Styles
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 [Jadakiss:] HOLIDAY [Styles
) Me killing all of ya, ill premonition, (ew) If I promise paradise in the next life (ah) I turn this rap thing into a holy war, holiday, cut your arm
Banger, let's go Styles P, Cassidy Full surface, listen It's a rap for y'all Look, homes behave, or get cut wit ya own blade The chrome raise, put ya
Hell of a stink now J A D A 'Cause the P will hollow the gun to holla at son Muah, I'm that nigga ya'll know that Do it Holiday Style Double R is comin
Yeah, D-Block Styles P, you wit me dog? Hell yeah, let's get 'em, yeah Let's go You get smacked with the hammer, nigga play your position 'Fore rigor
erase this message press seven, to save it press nine Styles: Pick up ya goddamn phone man, I keep tryin to call you Jesus Christ boy, one Yeah, D-Block Styles P
Revolver, semi-automatic an' a P.G. Hooptie getaway, driver breathe easy Explain things further, murder or get murdered We gonna R U double F R Y D E Revolver, semi-automatic an' a P
Two guns up mothafucka, two guns up mothafucka [Incomprehensible] If P want you dead, I ain't comin' with niggas Just a blunt and a three pound, plenty
Holiday styles Bitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck If I ain't gettin' proper respect I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill
Turn it up, turn it up Swizz Beats the monster Fix ya, face, Ruff Ryders, let's do it D-Block, EVE, Styles P and Sheek, wasup, wassup Let's do it Walk
Then she go and get a doobie wrapped Lookin' at the God, like we all a little One pop for the pasta, one pop for the coke Holiday Styles, dick one shot
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
shottie will handle that Styles Paniro the most, you hearin' the Ghost Styles Holiday shit, it's robbery shit Nigga talkin' funny then body the kid, let's go Styles
f/ P.K.iller, Swizz Beatz P.K.iller! [Verse 1] Y'all gon die, so who gon cry for us hop in they whip and ride for us pop niggas in the skull in they
, you oughta pray for your wife (Holiday) I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell (Holiday) And I don't care if I sell, y'all know what I sell (Holiday
gotta let my nigga tell you his name [Styles] I'm Holiday Styles, where the fuck you thuggin' at I knock off ya head with a Louisville Slugger bat P'
Talk, holiday styles, SP or whatever you choose A pound of weed, four guns and a litre of booze Shoot niggas out they shoes, what? Come and fuck with
