AWA

Project Dreamz

Track byField Mob

19
0
  • 2000.12.12
  • 4:18
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歌詞

Verse 1 (Boondox): Rent thirty days late, gotta be gone by Saturday Tired of sellin' cocaine, folks tryna' trap me Every night dreamin 'bout livin life lavish A watch full of karats, a candy coated Caddy Off the show flo', sittin on fo' Vouges Oak wood gear shift, steer, and dash door Choppin on seventeen inch indies Bling bling from my mouth to my pinky Enough about my jewelry, grill, and my Fleetwood Tryna still live stable so my folks can eat good House sittin out on the hill to sleep good Livin peaceful, just like we should Money legal, no more sellin reefer No more feds tryna stick me like a needle When it's cold outdo's come in I heat ya You ain't gotta walk in the sun, I A.C. ya Don't worry 'bout that burgular comin to creep ya He trapped by alarms and the millimeter I'm a do or die ol' playa for my people, follow a leader I'm my brotha's keeper, for real (Chorus-both (Boondox and Kalage)) I'ma have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy Live life happy and I'm still nappy Makin legal money, no feds tryna' trap me I'ma have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy Live life happy and I'm still nappy Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna' trap me If you ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up You ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up Verse 2 (Kalage): What ya know 'bout havin no dough, no coat for the winter Remember, we poor folk Most cut yolk and smoke 'ports, cut throats and ya dope hoe Talk about they wanna 'Lac with four do's, no Vogues Wood kit and Momo's Outfits- Polo, pockets- so swole, Jenny Craig called- Escalade hog in the yard Breakin off ya folks too, belly full of soul food Chitt'lins, greens, pork chops, green beens Yeah I pray for that, each and every day I rap I rap with God, 'cause I feel you ain't really safe with gats We escape slacks, but government helped in welfare My folk cries to the law and ain't no help there We ain't had much, the less to brag about, but mo' to lose I ran the street, mama told me go to school But now I got a chance to change thangs and maintain Mo' so, I ain't gotta slang 'caine no mo' Hell yeah boy, you really understand dirt Well I'ma rap and you gon' clap until your hands hurt I ain't the only person feel like I feel, got ta live like I live And wanna chill, for real (Chorus) Verse 3 (Boondox and Kalage (B=Boondox; K=Kalage)): (B) Now put your hands up if you're broke folks tried to spoil ya With fried bologna sandwiches and sugar water (K) Put ya hands up, if you feel my hurt Have you ever bathed with soap the size of a Cert (B) Don't disguise the dirt then, 'cause we all know rocks It's the real reason furniture go to the pawn shop (K) 'Cause ya crackhead cuz smokin the car antennas (B) Understand see... (K) It's a junkie in every family (B) 'Member hand-me-down, tight pants, lookin slim in 'em If they too big... (K) What you do? (B) Put a hem in 'em (K) 'Member talkin over the loud sounds when the wind blow 'Cause the trash bag's replacin yo' car window (B) Man, I been po' (K) I been poor (Both) Man, we been po'! That's how it is in the Field, for real (Chorus 2x)

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