T'was the day after Kwanzaa, or something like that
When we donned our new shoes, and thirty dollar hats.
Left the cauldron to simmer, this soup's for the birds
"Fuck it, let's skate soma", came the caroler's words.
With a frontside flip high as the clear midnight sky
And an ollie form flat, that left no room for pie
Tony three shoved, and lipslid, and landed fakie
While Mo half cab back grinded the hubba with ease.
Mo'd be lounging alone in the 9-club this morn'
If it weren't for a switch flip and heel oh so warm
But Santa saw the ripping and said 'fools be trippin'"
Shred together for double the ho ho ho ripping
Austin from detroit planted quickly and tailslid
While Johnny laid back and nosegrinded, so illin
Even Ki tre flip varialed, would you believe that,
and Santa, yes Claus, flipped from bank 'oer the gap.