| Artist/Band: 
Nas Lyrics for Song: Street Dreams
 Lyrics for Album: Greatest Hits [2007]
 
 
 
 34180>Uhh, what, what, uhh..
 
 
 
 Chorus: Nas (set to Eurythmics "Sweet Dreams")
 
 
 
 Street dreams are made of these
 
 Niggaz push Beemers and 300 E's
 
 A drug dealer's destiny is reachin a key
 
 Everybody's lookin for somethin..
 
 Street dreams are made of these
 
 Shorties on they knees, for niggaz with big G's
 
 Who am I to disagree?
 
 Everybody's lookin for somethin..
 
 
 
 [Nas]
 
 My man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square
 
 Headed for Delaware, with one change of gear
 
 Nothin on my mind but the dime sack we blazed
 
 with the glaze in my eye, that we find when we crave
 
 dollars and cents, a fugitive with two attempts
 
 Jakes had no trace of the face, now they drew a print
 
 Though I'm innocent, til proven guilty
 
 I'ma try to filthy, purchase a club and start up realty
 
 For real G, I'ma fullfill my dream
 
 If I conceal my scheme, then precisely I'll build my cream
 
 the first trip without the clique
 
 Sent the bitch with the quarter brick, this is it
 
 Fresh face, NY plates got a Crooked I for the Jakes
 
 I want it all, ArmorAll Benz and endless papes
 
 God sake, what nigga got to do to make a half million
 
 without the FBI catchin feelings
 
 
 
 Chorus
 
 
 
 [Nas]
 
 From fat cat to papi, niggaz see the cat
 
 Twenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back
 
 Holdin gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back
 
 Livin with moms, gettin it on, flushin crack down the toilet
 
 Two sips from bein alcoholic
 
 Nine hundred ninety nine thou from bein rich but now I'm all for it
 
 My man saw it like Dionne Warwick
 
 A wiser team, for a wiser dream we could all score with
 
 The cartel Argentina coke with the nina
 
 Up in the hotel, smokin on sessamina
 
 Trina got the fishscale between her
 
 The way the bitch shook her ass yo the dogs never seen her
 
 She got me back livin sweeter, fresh Caesar
 
 Guess, David Robinson's, Walle' moccasins
 
 Bitches blow me while hoppin in the drop-top BM
 
 Word is bond son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this
 
 
 
 Chorus
 
 
 
 [Nas]
 
 Growin up project-struck, lookin for luck dreamin
 
 Scopin the large niggaz beamin, check what I'm seein
 
 Cars, ghetto stars pushin ill Europeans
 
 G'n, heard about them old timers OD'n
 
 Young, early 80's, throwin rocks at the crazy lady
 
 Worshippin every word them rope rockin niggaz gave me
 
 The street raised me up, givin a fuck
 
 I thought Jordan's and a gold chain was livin it up
 
 I knew the dopes, the pushers, the addicts everybody
 
 Cut out of class, just to smoke blunts and drink naughty
 
 Ain't that funny? Gettin put on to crack money
 
 With all the gunplay, paintin the kettle black hungry
 
 A case of beers in the staircase I wasted years
 
 Some niggaz went for theirs, flippin coke as they career
 
 But I'm a rebel stressin, to pull out of the heat no doubt
 
 With Jeeps tinted out, spendin never holdin out
 
 
 
 Chorus 2X
 
 34180>
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