Lyrics DREAMIN - Slight

DREAMIN

Ah, ah!
I’m sittin' in the crib dreamin' about Learjets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop — (oops!)
I’m interrupted by a doorbell, 3:52 — Who the hell is this?
I gets up quick, cocks my shit
Stop the dogs from barkin', then proceed to walk in
It’s a face that I seen before
My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor
Check it!
I look deeper;
I see blood up on his sneakers
And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth
So I dip, nigga!
Is you creepin' or speakin'?
He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the Beacon
I opens up the door, pitiful: «Is he in critical?»
Retaliation for this one won’t be minimal
Cause I’m a criminal way before the rap shit
Bust the gat shit;
Puff won’t even know what happened
If it’s done smoothly, silencers on the Uzi
Stash in the hooptie, my alibi: any cutie
With a booty that done fuck Big Pop
Head spinnin', reminiscin' 'bout my man C-Rock
Somebody gotta die
If I go, you got to go
Somebody gotta die
Let the gunshots blow
Somebody gotta die
Nobody got to know
That I killed yo ass in the midst, kid
Somebody gotta die
If I go, you got to go
Somebody gotta die
Let the gunshots blow
Somebody gotta die
Nobody got to know
That I killed yo ass in the midst, kid
Fillin' clips, he explained our situation
Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin'
«Some kid named Jason, in a Honda station wagon
Was braggin', about how much loot and crack he stackin'
Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique
A small crew 'round the time I was locked up with you»
«True indeed»
«But yo nigga, let me proceed
Don’t fill them clips too high, give them bullets room to breathe
Damn, it was our year
Went outta town, blew the fuck up
D-Roc went home and Jay got stuck the fuck up
Hit him twice, caught him right for the Persian white
Pistol whipped his kids and taped up his wife (Niggas is trife)
He figured Roc set 'em up, no question
Wet em up no less than 50 shots in his direction»
«How many shots?»
«Man nigga, I seen mad holes»
«What kinda gats?»
«Hecklers, Kochs, and Calicos
But fuck that, I know where all them niggas rest at
In the buildin' hustlin' and they don’t be strapped
Supreme in black is downstairs, the engine runnin'
Find a bag to put the guns in, and c’mon if you’re comin'
Somebody gotta die
If I go, you got to go
Somebody gotta die
Let the gunshots blow
Somebody gotta die
Nobody got to know
That I killed yo ass in the midst, kid
Somebody gotta die
If I go, you got to go
Somebody gotta die
Let the gunshots blow
Somebody gotta die
Nobody got to know
That I killed yo ass in the midst, kid