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INFO - PROJECT DREAMS

Project Dreams

de FIELD MOB / an -

VERSURI - PROJECT DREAMS

(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, ??? dash door



Choppin on seventeen inch Enki's



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' come in I heat ya



He ain't 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



I'm a do or die playa for my people, follow the leader



I'm my brotha's keeper, for real







(Chorus-both)



I'm a 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'm a 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



If you ever been broke put your hands up



You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up







(Kalage)



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 do's, no Vogues



Wood kit and Momo's



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 ain't really safe with gats



We escape slacks, the government help and welfare



My folk cries to the Lord, ain't no help there



We ain't 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 ain't gotta slang 'caine anymore



Hell yeah boy, you really understand dirt



Well I'm a rap if you gon' clap until your hands hurt



I ain't the only person feel like I feel, that there live like I live



And wanna chill, for real







(Chorus)







(Boondox) Now put your hands up if you're broke, folks tried



to spoil ya



With fried bologna sandwiches and sugar water



(Kalage) 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 did '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) Them my 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 poor



(K) I been poor



(Both) Man, we been poor!



That's how it is in the Field, for real







(Chorus) 2x

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