| City of death homicide on every corner
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| Eight in the mornin' I’m at the mall tryna buy some Jordans
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| Call me a hoarder tennis shoes everywhere
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| But when you sellin' coke you don’t have a care
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| I’m talkin Peruvian pure coke white as Cher
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| Got it in the trunk like a spare tire
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| Money on his head that’s murder for hire
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| I seen a fiend sell his soul for a dime rock
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| Then he came right back and sold his son’s XBox
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| I pray to the Lord this shit gotta stop
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| Everybody walkin' around with tools on repo
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| Speakin' in code, tryna get the line on the kilos
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| They tappin' phones and tryna give us to RICO
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| I’m tryna get rich and give back to the people
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| CEO, no nigga you ain’t my equal
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| See before I can see the fake in you
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| Cause you never act like a real nigga do
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| Niggas talkin' to knocks throwin' surprise parties
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| But we ready for the beef nigga Arbie’s
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| Livewire MC you see us on them Harley’s
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| Yeah, it was me (nord?) and bang bang
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| Nigga tryna make a mil a day
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| Lyin' on my side, in my hand there’s a grenade
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| On the corner grindin' since the tenth grade
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| Cause I don’t like to dream about gettin' paid
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| Cause I don’t like to dream about gettin' paid
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| 40 on my side in my hand there’s a grenade
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| Still sellin' dope, since the tenth grade
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| Cause I don’t like to dream about, gettin' paid
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| Cause I don’t like to dream about, gettin' paid
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| Money on my mind, landlord at the door
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| Tryna kick a nigga out cause I’m sellin' dope
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| Import export money in the transaction
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| Bangers on me always killas in my fuckin' faction
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| You niggas savin' bitches like Action Jackson
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| These hoes settin' niggas up and ask 'em what happened
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| He gotta have it my nigga and he just can’t kick it
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| Therefore, his digits is limited
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| Livin life wicked tryna touch a meal ticket
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| Get it on the streets then send it to the niggas in prison
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| Cause I can see you fake niggas through this tunnel vision
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| Disloyal see a nigga shot and then his blood boil
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| In the kitchen my mama cookin' it to the oil
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| Get the birds cross state, to the Georgetown (?)
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| Now I’m in the Porsche, it feel like 500 horses
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| Now I’m in the Porsche, it feel like 500 horses |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dreamin , by - J. Stalin. Song from the album Return of the Body Snatchers, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп