Street Dreams Lyrics by NAS

Street Dreams Lyrics

    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]

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