Sooooo I was browsing on fb and I came across this twist on the poem "Twas the Night Before Christmas" from one of the pages I'd liked, And I thought it was so darned funny Twas the night before Christmas Da whole house was mella, Not a creature was stirrin', Cuz I had a gun unda ma pilla. When up on da roof I heard somethin pound, I sprung to da window To scream "YO! Keep it down!" When what to my Wanderin' eyes should appear But da Don of all elfs And eight friggin reindeer! Wit slicked back black hair And a silk red suit Don Christopher was here And he brought da loot! Wit a slap to dere snouts And a yank on dere manes He cursed and he shouted And he called dem by names "Yo Tony, Yo Frankie Yo Vinny, Yo Vito! Aye Joey, Aye Paulie, Aye Pepe, Aye Guido!" As I drew out my gun And hid by da bed He flew troo da window And slapped me 'side da head "What da heck you doin Pullin' a gun on da Don? Now all you gettin' is coal You friggin moron!" Den pointin' a fat finga Right unda my nose He twisted his pinky ring And up da chimney he rose He sprang to his sleigh Obscenities screamin' Away dey all flew Before he troo dem a beatin' Den I heard him yell out What I did least expect, "Merry Friggin' Christmas to all And yous betta show some respect!"
Twas the night before christmas when all through the trailer my beer was flat and my pizza was staler
Awesomest post I've ever read. Can you people please look at mine: Rap Battles on Campus!! It's under: strategy, clubs, and wars
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad, There was nada happenin', now thats pretty bad. The woodstove was hung up in that stocking routine, In hopes that the Fat Boy would soon make the scene. With our stomachs packed with tacos and beer, My girl and I crashed on the couch for some cheer. When out in the yard there arose such a racket, I ran for the door and pulled on my jacket. I saw a large bro' on a '56 Pan Wearin' black leathers, a cap, and boots (cool biker, man). He hauled up the bars on that bikeful of sacks, And that Pan hit the roof like it was running on tracks. I couldn't help gawking, the old guy had class. But I had to go in -- I was freezing my ass. Down through the stovepipe he fell with a crash, And out of the stove he came dragging his stash. With a smile and some glee he passed out the loot, A new jacket for her and some parts for my scoot. He patted her fanny and shook my right hand, Spun on his heel and up the stovepipe he ran. From up on the roof came a great deal of thunder, As that massive V-twin ripped the silence asunder. With beard in the wind, he roared off in the night, Shouting, "Have a cool Yule, and to all a good ride!"