"Street Dreams" lyrics - NAS

NAS

"Street Dreams"

(Samuel Barnes / Annie Lennox / Nas / Dave Stewart)

My man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square
Headed for Delaware with one change of gear
Nothing 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 get filthy, purchase a club and start up a realty
For real, G, I'ma fulfill 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 eye for the Jakes
I want it all, ArmorAll Benz and endless papes
God sake, what a nigga got to do to make a half a million
Without the FBI catching feelings?

From Fat Cat to Pappy, niggas see the cat
Twenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back
Holding gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back
Living with Moms, getting it on, flushing crack down the toilet
Two sips from being alcoholic
Nine-hundred-ninety-nine thou' from being 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, smoking 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 living sweeter, fresh Caesar
Guess, David Robinson's, Wally moccasins
Bitches blow me while hopping in the drop-top BM'
Word is bond, son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this

Growing up project-struck, looking for luck, dreaming
Scoping the large niggas beaming, check what I'm seeing
Cars, ghetto stars pushing ill Europeans
G'n, heard about them old timers OD'n
Young, early 80's, throwing rocks at the crazy lady
Worshipping every word them rope-rocking niggas gave me
The street raised me up giving a fuck
I thought Jordans and a gold chain was living it up
I knew the dopes, the pushers, the addicts, everybody
Cut out of class just to smoke blunts and drink noddy
Ain't that funny? Getting put on to crack money
With all the gunplay, painting the kettle black hungry
A case of beers in the staircase, I wasted years
Some niggas went for theirs, flipping coke as they career
But I'm a rebel stressing, to pull out of the heat, no doubt
With Jeeps tinted out, spending, never holding out

[Chorus:]
Street dreams are made of these
Niggas push Bimmers and 300 E's
A drug dealer's destiny is reaching a key
Everybody's looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Shorties on they knees, for niggas with big cheese
Who am I to disagree?
Everybody's looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Niggas push Bimmers and 300 E's
A drug dealer's destiny is reaching a key
Everybody's looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Shorties on they knees, for niggas with big cheese
Who am I to disagree?
Everybody's looking for something

[Skit]
*Gunshot*
"Yeah nigga, what?!"
"Oh, shit!"
"Queensbridge, boy, what?! Yo, what?!"
"Yo, they shot [?], dawg"
"Yo, yo, lets get the hell outta here y'all, I don't give a fuck-"
(Ongoing screaming)
"Look! We on his back right now
We gotta get the hell outta here, yo!"
"I want some more nigga, come on!"
"Yo, come on run, yo!"
"Watch out, man, yo watch out, watch out, nigga!"
"Yo, yo hol' up, hol' up, hol' up!"
"Yo, I twisted that kid, right?"
"Yeah the hell you did, man"
"Yo why you-"
"Yo, yo, come on though"
(Oh, shit)
"Yo, we gotta got up outta here, yo"
"You think somebody peeped that?"
"Yo, hell yeah, I'm saying, yo, as long as we get rid o-
Get rid of the heat, yo!"
"Fuck that!"
"Get rid of the heat, yo"
*Gunshot*
"C'mon, c'mon, I'm through that shit, c'mon"
"We gotta bounce, yo!"
"Let's bounce!"

It Was Written (1996)