Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dreamin' A Life (Feat. B-Dawg & Shadow), artist - Woodie
Date 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! |