Nightmare Before Christmas

[Verse 1: Phillip Morris]
Yo, it's the nightmare before Christmas
Niggas probably ran
I'm hopping out of body bags
I like scaring morticians
Creepy but it's fun though
Chiefing on the skunk dro
By the way, also need some TP for my bunghole
I done stole the spotlight nigga, relax
After the shows you'll have to go home with a nicotine patch
Listeners get straight addicted
Fuck the system we need to rage against it
So I hope this wordplay's convincing
Mad martagon
I role with a gang of midgets
Spitting acidic liquids
Changed to redder shades of litmus
Dangerous mixing fire with gas
Shat on the industry, didn't think of wiping his ass
Keep it funktified
Krunk and lye
Yes, I'm drunk and high true
Nice smooth on the mic but I dance like a white dude
This is handcrafted hip-hop pottery
You're not a Don Juan, nigga
You's a Don Juan wannabe
I'm Sean Connery
Rock a beat like Sisyphus
Reaching in my pockets deep and picking lint
I'm the antithesis of Richie Rich
My car is a mess
Fought so hard to catch this train of thought regardless of stress
The architect, hard to rest
When he's up at night
Puffing pipes
Coming up with rough designs to unplug your mind
From the makeshift matrix
And if you ain't heard of him before
It's about fucking time

[Hook]
'Cuz I'm a nightmare
Your worst nightmare
I'm the reason that you're nervous and you're quite scared
Underneath the fucking surface yo, I'm right there
I'm the reason that you're waking up with white hairs
I'm a nightmare
Your worst nightmare
You can kiss my ass cheeks I got a nice pair
And I don't need a lot of muscle I don't fight fair
Phillip Morris got the hustle on the mic, yeah

[Verse 2: Phillip Morris]
I'll beat a bad kids ass
Trip them while their parents ain't looking
That'll give them ample time to marinate
I serenade careless dates with skin-flute solos
Chase around the room in a thin blue kimono
That's what happens when you mix pimp juice and NoDoz
Hit Myspace and post the improved photos
Homegrown herbs got my higher than Kid Icarus
Talk out the side of my mouth like aspiring ventriloquist
This is not a warning
I'm worse than Chewbacca storming down your block
At 2 o'clock in the morning, hard to ignore me
Thanks to the dishonorable George B
I can subject you to water boarding
Until you're screaming "Stop it no more please!"
Straight to the psych-ward after this hospital quarantine
Popping Thorazine smelling like hot garbage and corned beef
He's a clever dude, tied his sheets together quick
Beat the sedatives and climbed outside to preach the rhetoric
My bloodstream contains high levels of mescaline plus
Hunter S. Thompson specter is resting in my chest, yes
Hip-hop journalism gets injected with a fresh syringe
Psycho-analysts are like, "It's evident Tourettes exists."
A pestilence in the form of this fresh cadence
You ain't seen the level of horror since Wes Craven
I'm the cause of your heavy breathing
And if you're starting to feel tense, because you've got every reason

[Hook]