Credits

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Wooda DaDream

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You know Wooda pop out
Got the tools I top the notch out
You done made me bring that Glock out
Aye I got it nigga watch out
Nothin' I can really do with reminiscing
Think I'm trippin'? Do you wanna know the feelin' ?
I'm a hero but they treat 'em like a villain
And you wonder why I do not want no dealings

Got em buyin' what I'm sellin'
I was breakin' rules like a felon
Month eleven, number seven
Gotta count the green and not the lettuce
I was mobbin' through the belly
For the bread and butter, not the jelly
Got me in there like a crevice aye you gotta go and check the credits

Been through so much, had to shake it off
She strut her stuff, let me break it off
I was not takin' no days off
I cannot wait till it pays off
I found my way through the maze, aye

I cannot wait for the vaycay
I cannot wait on the payday

Don't give a f*ck about what they say I gotta take it to the ceiling
You wanna know about the feelin'?
I severed ties and cut the dealings
Pain left em blind I need the healin'
Came back for mine, you gotta feel me
I still pull up when the block hot
I'm cookin' up where a crockpot?

I gotta give all that I got
F*ck out my face, need a couple feet
It's not a race but I got you beat
Steady your pace, how it gotta be
Pray for the grace, it's the God in me
Hop in the booth, then I spit the truth
I told her hold up, I just need a boost
I throw the four up everywhere I go

E on the glow, gotta let ya know
Last man to stand on the pivot
I gotta stand on the business
I'm from the land and I'm gifted
I spread my wings cause I'm lifted
On point like ping on the mission
I do my thing in a jiffy
I do my thing, shit was splendid

You know Wooda pop out
Got the tools I top the notch out
You done made me bring that Glock out
Aye I got it nigga watch out
Nothin' I can really do with reminiscing
Think I'm tripping
Do you wanna know the feelin' ?
I'm a hero but they treat 'em like a villain

And you wonder why I do not want no dealings
Got em buyin' what I'm sellin'
I was breakin' rules like a felon
Month eleven, number seven
Gotta count the green and not the lettuce
I was mobbin' through the belly
For the bread and butter, not the jelly
Got me in there like a crevice aye you gotta go and check the credits

 Struggling with Credits? Become a better singer in 30 days with these videos!