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Street Dreams [Album Version]
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1
Uh, what, what, uh
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[Chorus]
3
Street dreams are made of these
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Niggas push Beemers and 300 E's
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A drug dealer's destiny is reaching a key
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Everybody's looking for something
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Street dreams are made of these
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Shorties on they knees, for niggas with big G's
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Who am I to disagree?
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Everybody's looking for something
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My man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square
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Headed for Delaware, with one change of gear
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Nothing on my mind but the dime sack we blazed
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with the glaze in my eye, that we find when we crave
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dollars and cents, a fugitive with two attempts
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Jakes had no trace of the face, now they drew a print
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Though I'm innocent, til proven guilty
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I'ma try to filthy, purchase a club and start up realty
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For real G, I'ma fulfill my dream
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If I conceal my scheme, then precisely I'll build my cream
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the first trip without the clique
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Sent the bitch with the quarter brick, this is it
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Fresh face, NY plates got a Crooked I for the Jakes
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I want it all, Armor All Benz and endless papes
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God sake, what nigga got to do to make a half million
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without the FBI catching feelings
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[Chorus]
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From fat cat to papi, niggas see the cat
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Twenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back
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Holding gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back
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Living with moms, getting it on, flushing crack down the toilet
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Two sips from bein alcoholic
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Nine hundred ninety nine thou from being rich but now I'm all for it
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My man saw it like Dionne Warwick
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A wiser team, for a wiser dream we could all score with
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The cartel Argentina coke with the nina
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Up in the hotel, smoking on sessamina
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Trina got the fishscale between her
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The way the bitch shook her ass yo the dogs never seen her
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She got me back living sweeter, fresh Caesar
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Guess, David Robinson's, Walle' moccasins
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Bitches blow me while hopping in the drop-top BM
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Word is bond son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this
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[Chorus]
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Growing up project-struck, looking for luck dreaming
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Scoping the large niggas beaming, check what I'm seeing
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Cars, ghetto stars pushing ill Europeans
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G', heard about them old timers OD'
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Young, early 80's, throwing rocks at the crazy lady
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Worshipping every word them rope rocking niggas gave me
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The street raised me up, giving a fuck
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I thought Jordan's and a gold chain was living it up
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I knew the dopes, the pushers, the addicts everybody
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Cut out of class, just to smoke blunts and drink naughty
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Ain't that funny? Getting put on to crack money
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With all the gun play, painting the kettle black hungry
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A case of beers in the staircase I wasted years
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Some niggas went for theirs, flipping coke as they career
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But I'm a rebel stressing, to pull out of the heat no doubt
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With Jeeps tinted out, spending never holding out
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[Chorus: x2]
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