Lyrics Neighbourhood Dreams - Woodie Smalls

Oh, happy holidays to all you bitch ass niggas man
It's ya boy Woods
Shout out regulater man
Is you ready for the super today?
See me and rap, go together like fries and a steak
See my mind in the stake way far from here
I'm 'bout to go off
I swear y'all niggas ain't prepared
I'm in my room sweaty shit look like a bachelor party
You know ya boy bat it like Paul McCartney
For the niggas that've been doubting me
I'm over here like fuck an apology
You know I gotta tell my niggas what's up
To all the niggas that supporting y'all should throw it up
Bank account is looking like a stank account
Can't wait till I be staking chips
Give me the finest ride and the badest bitch
I'm talking euros, plural
And shout out to D.C.
And all the niggas on the side that couldn't see me
But I ain't even going fregus like selling the bid
And I been ditching class just to fuck this regular bitch, shit
But I ain't even gonna friend all these niggas
It's way to yes, we gon' stunt on these niggas like
Couting profit after profit
My niggas soke in money
... we gon' ride around for the money
The bitches who love the sound
I ain't stuntin'
You see them, they love me now
Aye
We gon' ride around, aye
... we gon' ride around for the money
The bitches who love the sound
I ain't stuntin'
You see them, they love me now.
Aye