This is a song about "Christmas gifts to little kids"

Ripping ya tendons and using the bitches to wrap ya body up like a gift for christmas/

I popped him in his knees and shot him, punk.. please..cause cops should mind they business, when we rush

And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him

Little kids rhyming stuff not even knowing the meanin'

Abandoned throughout the land a million little kids/

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Nothing to give, we got single parents, ain't lovin' the kids,

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

But it's still cool just to dream man because

The gifts, i wanted on christmas?

Ain't no nigga touching my style, it got a force field

Little kids gonna remember me, like a catholic priest.

I diss little kids who can't fit in cuz i'm a bully

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

And giving peppermint candy to innocent kids