Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dreamin' A Life (Feat. B-Dawg & Shadow), artist - WoodieDate of issue: 31.12.2003
Song language: English
Dreamin' A Life (Feat. B-Dawg & Shadow) |
| Chorus: |
| I might of shot your homies |
| Once or twice you never know |
| But I still walk the streets |
| So I assumed they let it go |
| But just in case they didn’t |
| I pack metal for clever folks |
| So all that talk in breakin' Woodie off |
| Whatever tho' |
| I’m still puttin' it down |
| Sidin' through the town Yoc bound |
| Suckas wanna talk down |
| But ain’t prepared to cock down |
| They wanna bang like killas |
| But don’t bang with no killas |
| They wanna claim they killas |
| But don’t hang with no killas |
| This is Antioch, the A-N-T-I-O-C-H |
| And I’m the one who brought the Yoc |
| Up out the Golden State |
| You wanna hate this |
| Hate yourself |
| Think your from the Yoc |
| Talkin' down on my name |
| Cuz I ain’t askin' you to jock |
| Just recognize |
| From two professional years of rappin' |
| East Co. Co. Records puttin' this crap |
| Back in time on the map |
| And then some |
| We takin' nationwide infected |
| Each and every nook and cranny |
| Were that Yoc life bakins' |
| And I reckon |
| We’ll be collectin' dividends along the way |
| And that’s exactly were this haterism comes into play |
| What’s there to say |
| Nothin' but hot ones |
| I got for those talkin' down on me |
| Come on haters try to stop this |
| Dig deep into your pockets |
| Cuz that’ll give me a legit reason |
| To make yo knot twist, not this |
| Northern fella Antioch dwella |
| Won’t fall hostage |
| To the thoughts and plots of the jealous |
| Your gonna watch this |
| Independent label succeed |
| Were re-precautions 10−4 for |
| Every homey that bleeds |
| We’ll plant our seeds in some mattress |
| And watch our killas grow |
| Teach 'em everything we know |
| So that they gonna run the show |
| I’m talkin' fathers and sons |
| Uncles and nephews packin' guns |
| Holdin' down the fort |
| Prepared for war |
| Protectin' loved one |
| No more snatchin' up our dreams |
| Through the dope on triple beams |
| Or an enemy shot |
| Cuz that’s the power money brings |
| We’re the kings of our own plot |
| We found a spot |
| Don’t make room |
| If you think we’re bluffin' |
| I assume you have a skank too |
| So if you wanna get me |
| Come and get me |
| Quit talkin' |
| And send the messages through bitches |
| Cuz that shit’ll leave you chopped up |
| You wanna talk behind my back |
| And jaw jack amongst female company |
| And every word up out your mouth |
| Eventually gon' come to me |
| How dumb could you be |
| Maybe you really wanna see me |
| But most likely you a sucka |
| And you hatin' you can’t be me |
| Probably got that A-D-D |
| Attention Deficit Disorder |
| And you’ve notice when you say my name |
| That people won’t ignore ya |
| That’s pathetic |
| Just another sorry chump in the game |
| Go ahead keep bumpin' my name |
| Cuz your just pumpin' my fame |
| But when we cross paths |
| Haul ass |
| Or be prepared to aim |
| Cuz I’m a draw fast |
| Cock blast |
| With heat to tear your brain |
| Cuz I’ve HAD IT UP TO HERE |
| Do your history |
| I got my stripes |
| Sucka you ain’t pumpin' fears |
| So come here and get a dose of |
| This Antioch West Twompsta |
| The demon in me wants to |
| Go back to a monsta |
| And put this music shit on stand by |
| To make a man die |
| How do I cope with this |
| I focus on the grand prize |
| Nothin' but hot ones I got for those talkin' down on me |
| Shit! |