Christmas Rappin'

Don't you give me all that job about things you wrote before eyes alive Cause this ain't 18, 23, ain't even 1970 Now I'm the guy named Curtis Blow and Christmas is one thing I know So every year, just about this time I celebrate it with a rhyme Gonna shake it, gonna bake it, gonna make it good

Gonna rock, chop, knock it through your neighborhood Gonna read, gonna sing it till it's understood My rapin' bout to happen like a knee You were slapping or I thought you'd been tapping on a hunk of wood Botta red suited to with a friendly attitude and a slave bullet Boy the people on the rock got a long white beard

Maybe it looks kinda weird and if you ever see him he can give you quite a shock Now people let me tell you about last year Where the dude came flying over here Well the harp was out, snowed on the ground Focused aint too party down The people thump in on the box

And I was dancing in my sock And the drummer played at a solid pace And the taste of the bass was in my face And it could stop layin' down the heavy layer of the funky jungle Does a mother disco beat?

And the guy with the 88 started to dissipate and I could sure appreciate it's sound so sweet We were all in the mood so we had a little food and a joke and a smoke And a little bit of wine when I thought I heard a hoop on the top of the roof

Could it be a wasn't me? I was feelin' super fine, so I went to the attic Where I thought I heard the static on the chance That the fans put somebody breakin' it Put the noise on the top with a rain, Dear, drop just a drink, say, Nick And I'll let the sucker in