Holiday Lyrics - Ruff Ryders

Yeah, L O X, nigga 

It don't stop 

Keep goin and goin' and goin and goin' 

Motherfuckers 

You heard it from the P, you oughta know it's the truth 

If 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 religious, 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 get to this loot 

And missin' a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, told you the script 

You heard about the trouble, I start most of the shit 

When I squeeze ain't no controllin' the wrist 

And niggas leave the room when they hear the P flowin' with swiss 

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 

(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) 

I use my left hand when I'm loadin' the shells 

(Holiday) 

'Cuz I know it ain't right, that's why I'm blowin' a L 

Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even ride 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, fiftys of hash 

Hundreds of dro, wear my clothes a week in a row 

Sleep on the floor, catch me right next to the door 

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 ain't 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 

(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) 

I use my left hand when I'm loadin' the shells 

(Holiday) 

'Cuz I know it ain't right, that's why I'm blowin' a L 

(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) 

I use my left hand when I'm loadin' the shells 

(Holiday) 

'Cuz I know it ain't right, that's why I'm blowin' a L