Field mob project dreamz

Enough about my jewelry, grill and my Fleetwood Financially stable so my folks can eat good House sittin' out on the hill to sleep good Livin' peaceful just like we should. Please click here if you are not redirected within a few seconds. If you ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up You ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up. Hell yeah boy, if you really understand dirt Well, I'ma rap and you gon' clap until your hands hurt I ain't the only person feel like I feel, gotta live like I live And wanna chill, for real. I'ma have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy Live life happy and I'm still nappy Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna trap me.

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More by Field Mob

Off the show flo', sittin' on fo' Vogues Oak wood gear shift, steer and dash door Choppin' on seventeen inch Indies Bling bling from my mouth to my pinky. Wood kit and Momo's, outfits- Polo, pockets- so swole Jenny Craig called- Escalade hog in the yard Breakin' off ya folks too, belly full of soul food Chitt'lins, greens, pork chops, green beens.

If you ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up You ever been broke put your hands up You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up. Don't worry 'bout that burglar comin' to creep ya He trapped by alarms and the millimeter I'm a do or die ol' playa for my people Follow a leader I'm my brotha's keeper, for real.

Field Mob - Project Dreamz Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Yeah, I pray for that, each and every day I rap I rap with God 'cause I feel you ain't really safe with gats We escape slacks but government helped in welfare My folk cries to the law and ain't no help there. What ya know 'bout havin no dough, no coat for fild winter? I'ma have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy Live life happy and I'm still nappy Makin' legal money, no feds dreajz trap me.

Put a hem in 'em 'Member talkin' over the loud sounds when the wind blow 'Cause the trash bag's replacin' yo' car window Man, I been po', I been poor, we been po' That's how it is in the Field, for real. Now, put your hands up if you're broke folks tried [Incomprehensible] But y'all ate free lunch and you never had [Incomprehensible] Put ya hands up, if you feel fied hurt Have you ever bathed with soap the size of a Cert?

Dresmz thirty days late, gotta be gone by Saturday Tired of sellin' cocaine, folks tryna trap me Every night dreamin 'bout livin' life lavish A watch full of karats, a candy coated Caddy Off the show flo', sittin' on fo' Vogues Oak wood gear shift, steer and dash door Choppin' on seventeen inch Indies Bling bling from my mouth to my pinky Enough about my jewelry, grill and my Fleetwood Financially stable so my folks can eat good House sittin' out on the hill to sleep good Livin' peaceful just like we should Money legal, projet more sellin' reefer No more feds tryna stick me like a needle When it's cold outdo's come in I heat ya You ain't gotta walk in the sun, I A.

Don't disguise the dirt then 'cause we all know rocks It's the real reason furniture go to the pawn shop 'Cause ya crackhead 'cuz smokin' the car antennas I understand see, it's a junkie in every family.

We ain't had much, the less to brag about but mo' to lose I ran the street, Mama told me go to school But now I got a chance to change thangs and maintain Mo' so, I ain't gotta slang 'caine no mo'. Hell yeah boy, if you really understand dirt Well, I'ma rap and you gon' clap until your hands hurt I ain't the only person feel like I feel, gotta live like I live And wanna chill, for real.

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language: Please click here if you are not redirected within a few seconds.

You gotta check out. Money legal, no more sellin' reefer No more feds tryna stick me like a needle When it's cold outdo's come in I heat ya You projcet gotta walk in the sun, I A. Remember, we poor folk Most cut yolk and smoke 'ports, cut throats and ya dope hoe Talk about they wanna 'Lac with four do's, no Vogues.

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy Live life happy and I'm still nappy Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna trap me. Rent thirty days late, gotta be gone by Saturday Tired of sellin' cocaine, folks tryna trap me Every night dreamin 'bout livin' life lavish A watch full of karats, a candy coated Caddy. Enough about my jewelry, grill and my Fleetwood Financially stable so my folks can eat good House sittin' out on the hill to sleep good Livin' peaceful just like we should.

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