Project Dreams Lyrics

(Blax) Brick dirty days, state got a big on my stanny Caught her sellin cocaine, fo'-400 tranny Every night dreamin bout livin like nanny So watch for the camera like candy coated panties Bout to sho flo, sippin on flo fo Old boys yellin sip searin dash doh Topin on 17 inch indys, bling bling From my mouth to my pinky Enough bout my new recruit and my Fleetwood Tala la la stable so my folk can eat good High and gettin out of the heat, the street good Livin peaceful just like we should Money leave good, no more sellin reefer No more air callin station like a leader When its on all lock doors, comin I either He aint got to walk in the sun, I can see ya Dont worry bout the burgular comin ta creep ya Get trapped by the alarm and a millimeter I'ma do or die playa for my people Follow the leader Why my brother keep up, for real (Chorus 2X) I'ma have me a big nice caddy House on a hill for my mom and my pappy Still got ham, and I'm still happy Nigga leave some money no face what a tragedy If you ever been broke put cha hands up You been broke put cha hands up If you ever been broke put cha hands up You been broke put cha hands up, put em up (Kalage) What cha know bout havin no dough No coat fo the the winter, remember we poor folk Sposed to cut yolks, and fo pokes Cut throats in yo dope hoe Talk bout they want to laugh at 4 door hobo's Wood gettin mo mo's, I gets Polo Pockets still swoll, Jenny Craig'n Nah, Escalade ball with me yo Breakin up y'all old school Better get soul food (uuuuuuuuuummmmmm umm) Tempest greens pork chop string beans Yo I pray for that, each and every day I rap I rap regardless idea you ain't really safe with that Yes stay on slacks as govermment help the welfare My folks already stood in alone up in the welfare We ain't have much, unless the rag back gone before it lose I ran the street momma told me to go to school But now I got a jabing(?) chain, gold chain I maintain Mo so I ain't got to slang 'caine Hell ya boy yuo really understand dirt When I rap you gone clap till ya hands hurt I ain't the only person fell like I live Live like I live and I want to chill For real (Chorus 2X) (Blax & Kalage) Now put cha hands up, if ya broke ghostwrite I'll call ya We'll drop another salmon just a sugar wall up (put cho hands up if you felt my hurt) (have you ever bathed with soap the size of a Certs) Done decide to dirt in cause we all know rocks Is this the real reason furniture go to the pawn shop (cause the crack head killers smokin the car antennas) Understand me (it's a junkie in every family) Hand me down tight pant lookin slim in em If they to big (what chu do) put a ham in em When I'm talkin over the loud sounds over the window Cause the trans vans facing yo car window Man I been poor (man I been poor) man we been poor Thats how it is in the Field, for real (chorus til end)