Yo, it's Christmas time in this gosh darn city

I'm writin' bout the kid whose attitude is gritty.

He doesn't want to celebrate he's pretty blasé

He's so unconcerned he won't freakin' par-tay!

And on top of that he insists to stay,

And ruin my poem on which I spent all day!

This kid is a maniac, he's freakin' cra-zay!

Yeah, I was writing 'bout those girls,

I call my holiday woes,

Keep attracting me with their see-through pantyhose

Can't keep my hands from tugging on their clothes

Wrote 'em in a way that'd make your eyes close,

But in came Danny Phantom and stuck his nose!

With a ball of fire as red as a rose,

And when my book was gone you know my anger arose!

I thought he'd apologize, say he was sor-ay

But he just laughed in my face, what a mistake!

I told him, if you hate Christmas, fool, you should've taken it away,

But now the freaking Ghost Writer is here to stay,

So you better get on your knees and freaking pray,

Cause now you in my game, and you don't know how to play!

You gonna take it back, I'm gonna make you pay, fool!

You think you're hot stuff, don't you, Danny Fenton?

Because you can go ghost, can't you, Danny Phantom?

You can fire energy, and freaking fly,

But when my rhymes is done you gonna wish you was in the sky

Because my rhymes is gonna blow you sky high,

You little fool, you're gonna ask yourself why

Why you had to step out and try and make me cry?

You little urchin, you little scrooge,

I got a thing or two I need to teach you!

You don't screw with majors, you little minor,

Cause you know what you did ain't freaking minor!

Cause you see my books lining shelves in china!

It took 'em twelve hours to translate, kinda!

So take your drabbles somewhere else, you whine-a!

These mothers fear me, you know they do,

They hide in corners when with them I'm freaking through

Cause they know that I got a freaking crew

A big brain and some magic keys, too!

Hey, fool, you'd better check out my I.Q.

Because when I write you know that that is high too!

You little fool, I'm gonna rock you!

When they see my works their ears'll ring,

Because they know that I'm the new Stephen King!

Down to a science, I got this horror thing!

And you my next victim, I'm gonna make you sing,

G.W. stop it, I can't take these rhymes that you bring!

But once I got an idea, you gonna hear the DING!

Get ready for this Christmas thing, you know it's gonna sting!

You crying mercy, you crying stop,

But you know I ain't ever givin' up this op!

Cause you know that you my newest prop!

And god, you know I can't get you from the shop!

So bring a broom, your blood you'll need to mop

When your head my story needs to crop!

God, my rhymes is over top!

I ain't finished, this story's on,

You know your family and friends I'm gonna con

Cause, Danny, you're just a freaking pawn,

And for you their hatred's really gonna spawn,

Like the fire been burning inside me all along

Spreading so fast, you'd swear your eyes were wrong

But you know your damnation will be forever long!

You see your sky's become the color of an orange—