Story of Holiday

Lyrics

[Intro] Let's go machine Ha Its actually four-twenty right now, I'm on my shit Let's go [Verse] Blicky hit niggas like sixty can hit niggas If I clip half the city, you think they would miss niggas To tell the truth, I'm just sellin' juice, try'na loosen up Come to that weight or that H, I'ma stupid fuck Simply know the rules, do to them what they do to us Step up on the set, rep my set, yeah, I threw it up Right before I blew it up We can do it to the death Letter is addressed to rap niggas, yeah, the two of us You can bring the crew, I'll kill 'em all, yeah, I'm true as fuck Know I keep it trill, split your grill, try to glue it up Ora's explorer or the dark side You don't know the fright, split ya face like [?] died He don't get the drift, split his shit to the white meat Hop up in the Uber or a Lyft lookin' shiesty I just wanna watch 'em but his watch is a nice piece A robbery can turn to a homi within light-speed I was on my positive vibe, there went the old Ghost Seen niggas shot tryna score not at the goal post Old school sledgehammer niggas, leave ya toes broke Smack a rapper right on a yacht, that's a show boat Zoned out smokin a O, That's a Ozone Up all night for that money, fuck a No-Doz You don't sniff around in my business or have no nose Cut that shit off with a blade or a four-four Ask about Holiday but after the holiday Back in for the win but now that the holiday Prolly the hideaway that you can't locate They oughta make Styles Bape sweats how I go ape Now you know I kick the hardest shit out, check the catalog, God You can see what the artist about, in high school it was Nautica, Ralph Now its exotic soft shit while I'm in the loft orderin' out I feel the soul of Rich Porter abound & Larry Davis son A bunch of emcees I air all of 'em out Ghost [Outro] We outta dis motha fucka D-Block Ghost, nigga