Holy Santa

Shittrap, Sussy, satire, Christmas, Male vocals

Mall lights didn’t prep my sight,
This ain’t festive, this ain’t right.
Carol singers lied to me,
This red suit feels aggressively free.

Holy Santa, what you packin’ there?
That ain’t goodwill, that’s a goddamn glare.
Not here for toys, not spreading cheer,
He leans too close, breath way too near.
Ho-ho-holy shit, back the fuck up,
Christmas magic looking real fucked up.
If this is Santa, I’m out tonight,
Lock the door, kill every light.

Milk untouched, cookies ignored,
He scans the room like a porn award.
Says “been naughty?” way too slow,
Why you biting lips like that, bro?
Red velvet stretched to the brink,
That silhouette makes parents think.
This ain’t belly from holiday meals,
That’s confidence built outta pure appeal.

Heavy steps, floorboards crying,
Whole damn hallway feels like lying.
He adjusts the coat, takes his time,
Like Christmas night is prime time.
No elves, no sleigh, no backup plan,
Just raw audacity in a red-ass man.
This ain’t myth, this ain’t lore,
This is awkward energy I can’t ignore.
Stockings shaking for the wrong damn reason,
This Santa built different this season.

Holy Santa, miss me with that,
That sack ain’t gifts, that’s a bragging fact.
No “ho ho ho”, just a stare and pause,
Breaking several unspoken laws.
This ain’t joy, this ain’t cheer,
Why he standing way too near?
Christmas Eve turned hostile fast,
This Santa thick in the worst damn way.

They said “believe”, I did my part,
Now therapy bills broke my heart.
Faith collapsed in a single glance,
At Santa’s… advanced appearance.

Red coat tight like it’s flexing back,
Whole legend suddenly off-track.
North Pole PR needs repair,
After whatever the hell he’s carrying there.
This ain’t sleigh weight, let’s be clear,
That’s weaponized confidence, wrapped in fear.

Holy Santa, cancel the show,
That man’s built like a legal “no”.
No gifts, no grace, no peaceful cheer,
Just thick-ass tension atmosphere.
Ho-ho-holy hell, rewrite the tale,
This Santa belongs behind a rail.
If that’s the icon y’all defend,
Then Christmas needs a brand-new end.

2414/7500

My Santa ain’t holy, he’s poorly behaved, Red coat bulging like something mislaid. No sled outside, just boots by the door, He walks like he’s hiding a hell of a score. No jingle, no cheer, just a slow-ass grin, Like he knows he’s committing a seasonal crime. They sell him as joy, they sell him as kind, But that outfit screams “don’t leave me with kids”. Mall lights didn’t prep my sight, This ain’t festive, this ain’t right. Carol singers lied to me, This red suit feels aggressively free. Holy Santa, what you packin’ there? That ain’t goodwill, that’s a goddamn glare. Not here for toys, not spreading cheer, He leans too close, breath way too near. Ho-ho-holy shit, back the fuck up, Christmas magic looking real fucked up. If this is Santa, I’m out tonight, Lock the door, kill every light. Milk untouched, cookies ignored, He scans the room like a porn award. Says “been naughty?” way too slow, Why you biting lips like that, bro? Red velvet stretched to the brink, That silhouette makes parents think. This ain’t belly from holiday meals, That’s confidence built outta pure appeal. Heavy steps, floorboards crying, Whole damn hallway feels like lying. He adjusts the coat, takes his time, Like Christmas night is prime time. No elves, no sleigh, no backup plan, Just raw audacity in a red-ass man. This ain’t myth, this ain’t lore, This is awkward energy I can’t ignore. Stockings shaking for the wrong damn reason, This Santa built different this season. Holy Santa, miss me with that, That sack ain’t gifts, that’s a bragging fact. No “ho ho ho”, just a stare and pause, Breaking several unspoken laws. This ain’t joy, this ain’t cheer, Why he standing way too near? Christmas Eve turned hostile fast, This Santa thick in the worst damn way. They said “believe”, I did my part, Now therapy bills broke my heart. Faith collapsed in a single glance, At Santa’s… advanced appearance. Red coat tight like it’s flexing back, Whole legend suddenly off-track. North Pole PR needs repair, After whatever the hell he’s carrying there. This ain’t sleigh weight, let’s be clear, That’s weaponized confidence, wrapped in fear. Holy Santa, cancel the show, That man’s built like a legal “no”. No gifts, no grace, no peaceful cheer, Just thick-ass tension atmosphere. Ho-ho-holy hell, rewrite the tale, This Santa belongs behind a rail. If that’s the icon y’all defend, Then Christmas needs a brand-new end.

0/500