[Intro]
Dreamin' a life
Dreamin' a life
Where the money ain't tight
[Verse 1]
For my clique to succeed, how many soldiers must bleed?
We just wanna live comfortable, spread our seed and carry on our breed
Each of us need an old school indeed
Candy paint, drop-top, gold thangs, call it greed
So it be, we also want a Benz 500 SE laced with chrome
SUV for the family, seven bedroom, four bath home
Floors made out of marble stone, swimmin' pool with a waterfall
Record company checks pay the bills, nobody's gotta ball
Plus we'll take a dime from every dollar that we make so
We can pack and stack up more artillery than Waco
Ain't no fits like thе ones we got
I'm talkin' Dickies and Cortеz in colors they don't stock
And every homie got a pitbull, refrigerator packed full
Plus a bar with every liquor imaginable
Snoop would be out of the hole, back with his folks livin' the finer ways
With hand painted portraits of dead homies above the fire place
We won't let money change us, but still beware of strangers
Remainin' soldiers, streets have showed us jealous men are dangerous
Right now, a four-car garage is just a mirage
But just the thought of such a life keeps me strugglin' for the cause
Dreamin' a life
Dreamin' a life
Where the money ain't tight
[Verse 1]
For my clique to succeed, how many soldiers must bleed?
We just wanna live comfortable, spread our seed and carry on our breed
Each of us need an old school indeed
Candy paint, drop-top, gold thangs, call it greed
So it be, we also want a Benz 500 SE laced with chrome
SUV for the family, seven bedroom, four bath home
Floors made out of marble stone, swimmin' pool with a waterfall
Record company checks pay the bills, nobody's gotta ball
Plus we'll take a dime from every dollar that we make so
We can pack and stack up more artillery than Waco
Ain't no fits like thе ones we got
I'm talkin' Dickies and Cortеz in colors they don't stock
And every homie got a pitbull, refrigerator packed full
Plus a bar with every liquor imaginable
Snoop would be out of the hole, back with his folks livin' the finer ways
With hand painted portraits of dead homies above the fire place
We won't let money change us, but still beware of strangers
Remainin' soldiers, streets have showed us jealous men are dangerous
Right now, a four-car garage is just a mirage
But just the thought of such a life keeps me strugglin' for the cause
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!