Field Mob - Project Dreamz 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, ?? dash door Choppin on seventeen inch Enkis 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 its cold outdo come in I heat ya He aint gotta walk in the sun, I A.C. ya Bump worryin bout that burgular comin to creep ya Get trapped by alarms and the millimeter Im a do or die playa for my people, follow the leader Im my brothas keeper, for real Im a have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma and my pappy Live life happy and Im still nappy Makin legal money, no FEDs tryna trap me Im a have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma and my pappy Live life happy and Im 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 If you ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put em up What ya know bout havin no dough, no coat for the winter Remember, we poor folk Most cut yolk and smoke coke, cut throats in ya dope, hoe Talk about they wanna Lac with four dos, no Vogues Wood kit and Momos I gets Polo, pockets so swol, Jenny Craig Naw, Escalade hog, in the yard Breakin all ya folks too, belly full a soul food Chittlens, greens, pork chops, green beens Yeah I pray for that, each and every day I rap I rap with guard, cause I feel you aint really safe with gats We escape slacks, the government help and welfare My folk cries to the Lord, aint no help there We aint have much, or 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 things and maintain Mo so, I aint gotta slang caine anymore Hell yeah boy, you really understand dirt Well Im a rap if you gon clap until your hands hurt I aint the only person feel like I feel, that there live like I live And wanna chill, for real Now put your hands up if youre broke, folks tried to spoil ya With fried bologna sandwiches and sugar water Put ya hands up, if you feel my hurt Have you ever bathed with soap the size of a Cert Dont disguise the dirt did cause we all know rocks Its the real reason furniture go to the pawn shop Cause ya crackhead cuz smokin the car antennas Understand see... Its a junkie in every family Them my hand-me-down, tight pants, lookin slim in em If they too big... What you do? Put a hem in em Member talkin over the loud sounds when the wind blow Cause the trash bags replacin yo car window Man, I been poor I been poor Man, we been poor! Thats how it is in the Field, for real
Posted on: Sat, 16 Aug 2014 21:25:04 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015