Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
A father with 2 kids ruthlessly beat his spouse
A look on his face that expressed no care
A look into his eyes had the devil's glare
The children lay awake eyes open in bed
Thoughts of tomorrow circling in their heads
Christmas isn't happy for everyone on the map
And so i try to tell you that in this poem/rap
The kids didn't get presents yes that was the matter
And so they hustled until their pockets got fatter
This way easy and fast
Though treacherous and violent it still made cash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Excitement to play in it none of them showed
What, in their curious eyes it would appear
They were praying for a better start to the New Year
Makin' more money then they dad, selling those bricks
They didn't need to ask their parents to buy new kicks
Like they self-employed like they self-proclaimed
What happened at home made them show no shame
The thugs, hustlers, and convicts they would mix in
They thought it wasn't bad at least they weren't killin
Smoked the blunt slowly as the snow started to fall
Not realizing what they did was slowly killing them all
As Christmas was coming by
None of them realized cause they were too busy gettin high
It seems time itself, had grown wings and flew
No time for anything their lives were as good as through
And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof
But ignored cause their lives was enough proof
Cause when they were younger they saw the sky and ground
But in both places Santa was not to be found
It was Christmas bored and they all stay put
Thinkin they cool with the Jordan's on each foot
One of their homies pulled up in his new 'lac
Introduced them to the guns, the straps and the macks
They were reluctant to the contrary
The only good left in them told them to stay stationary
That act left room for the good to develop and grow
Trying to keep itself warm while stuck in the snow
The blunts they were smoking dangle around their teeth
Feeling something, not sure what is beneath
It was good, cold and sticky yet tasty like jelly
Unsure of this feeling they lay back and rap Makaveli
They didn't know what to think, of themselves
Feeling like their lives are a dusty book shelf
They look at each other, then turn their heads
Wondering what could have filled two lives with such dread
Father seemed to change one day coming back from work
No longer grumpy and tired acting like a jerk
Arms open wide a hug he would pose
And so the goodness in the kids once again rose
They spoke not a word, quiet as a dog whistle
Realizing that Christmas is sort of like a missile
Only good for those who cannot see the bad of it in sight
But bad for those who don't know what to expect through the night.
Twas the Night before Christmas
By Abdul
A father with 2 kids ruthlessly beat his spouse
A look on his face that expressed no care
A look into his eyes had the devil's glare
The children lay awake eyes open in bed
Thoughts of tomorrow circling in their heads
Christmas isn't happy for everyone on the map
And so i try to tell you that in this poem/rap
The kids didn't get presents yes that was the matter
And so they hustled until their pockets got fatter
This way easy and fast
Though treacherous and violent it still made cash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Excitement to play in it none of them showed
What, in their curious eyes it would appear
They were praying for a better start to the New Year
Makin' more money then they dad, selling those bricks
They didn't need to ask their parents to buy new kicks
Like they self-employed like they self-proclaimed
What happened at home made them show no shame
The thugs, hustlers, and convicts they would mix in
They thought it wasn't bad at least they weren't killin
Smoked the blunt slowly as the snow started to fall
Not realizing what they did was slowly killing them all
As Christmas was coming by
None of them realized cause they were too busy gettin high
It seems time itself, had grown wings and flew
No time for anything their lives were as good as through
And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof
But ignored cause their lives was enough proof
Cause when they were younger they saw the sky and ground
But in both places Santa was not to be found
It was Christmas bored and they all stay put
Thinkin they cool with the Jordan's on each foot
One of their homies pulled up in his new 'lac
Introduced them to the guns, the straps and the macks
They were reluctant to the contrary
The only good left in them told them to stay stationary
That act left room for the good to develop and grow
Trying to keep itself warm while stuck in the snow
The blunts they were smoking dangle around their teeth
Feeling something, not sure what is beneath
It was good, cold and sticky yet tasty like jelly
Unsure of this feeling they lay back and rap Makaveli
They didn't know what to think, of themselves
Feeling like their lives are a dusty book shelf
They look at each other, then turn their heads
Wondering what could have filled two lives with such dread
Father seemed to change one day coming back from work
No longer grumpy and tired acting like a jerk
Arms open wide a hug he would pose
And so the goodness in the kids once again rose
They spoke not a word, quiet as a dog whistle
Realizing that Christmas is sort of like a missile
Only good for those who cannot see the bad of it in sight
But bad for those who don't know what to expect through the night.
Twas the Night before Christmas
By Abdul
