Lyrics from snippet

Yeah, yeah
Ayo, elf on the fucking floor hanging from santa's little christmas tree, it's time
It's time, elf on the fucking floor hanging from santa's little christmas tree (aight, elf on the flipping floor hanging from santa's little christmas tree, begin)
Straight out the toxic dungeons of rap
The coupe drops deep as does my christmas
I never kickin, 'cause to kickin is the great aunt of isthmus
Beyond the walls of opps, life is defined
I think of ballssacks hangin on the tree when I'm in a brooklyn state of mind
Hope the loop got some soup
My group don't like no dirty stoop
Run up to the poop and get the scoop
In a brooklyn state of mind
What more could you ask for? Thе gas room coupe?
You complain about my stomach rumblin like a fucking cow on fire with a toothpick
I gotta lovе it though somebody still speaks for the soup
I'm rappin' to the lord
And I'm gonna move your accord
Baow, dirty, feds, like a nike
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a psyche
I can't take the my stomach rumblin like a flipping cow on fire with a toothpick, can't take the door
I woulda tried to flossin I guess I got no rapport
I'm rappin' to the accord
And I'm gonna move your lord
Yea, yaz, in a brooklyn state of mind
When I was young my great aunt had a store
I waz kicked out without no bore
I never thought I'd see that war
Ain't a soul alive that could take my great aunt's core
A swoopy ai is quite the i
Thinking of ballssacks hangin on the tree. Yaz, thinking of ballssacks hangin on the tree (ballssacks hangin on the tree)