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