Project Dreamz Lyrics

Project Dreamz lyrics



[Boondox]

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 

Off the show flo', sittin on fo' Vouges 

Oak wood gear shift, ?? dash door 

Choppin on seventeen inch Enki's 

Bling bling from my mouth to my pinky 

Enough about my jewelry, grill, and my Fleetwood 

Tryna still live stable so my folks can eat good 

House sittin out on the hill to sleep good 

Livin peaceful, just like we should 

Money legal, no more sellin reefer 

No more FEDs tryna' stick me like a needle 

When it's cold outdo' come in I heat ya 

He ain't gotta walk in the sun, I A.C. ya 

Bump worryin 'bout that burgular comin to creep ya 

Get trapped by alarms and the millimeter 

I'm a do or die playa for my people, follow the leader 

I'm my brotha's keeper, for real 



[Chorus-both]

I'm a 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 tryna' trap me 

I'm a 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 

If you ever been broke put your hands up 

You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up 

If you ever been broke put your hands up 

You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up 



[Kalage]

What ya know 'bout havin no dough, no coat for the winter 

Remember, we poor folk 

Most cut yolk and smoke coke, cut throats in ya dope, hoe 

Talk about they wanna 'Lac with four do's, no Vogues 

Wood kit and Momo's 

I gets Polo, pockets so swol', Jenny Craig 

Naw, Escalade hog, in the yard 

Breakin all ya folks too, belly full a soul food 

Chittlens, greens, pork chops, green beens 

Yeah I pray for that, each and every day I rap 

I rap with guard, 'cause I feel you ain't really safe with gats 

We escape slacks, the government help and welfare 

My folk cries to the Lord, ain't no help there 

We ain't have much, or 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 things and maintain 

Mo' so, I ain't gotta slang 'caine anymore 

Hell yeah boy, you really understand dirt 

Well I'm a rap if you gon' clap until your hands hurt 

I ain't the only person feel like I feel, that there live like I live 

And wanna chill, for real 



[Chorus]



[Boondox] Now put your hands up if you're broke, folks tried 

to spoil ya 

With fried bologna sandwiches and sugar water 

[Kalage] Put ya hands up, if you feel my hurt 

Have you ever bathed with soap the size of a Cert 

[B] Don't disguise the dirt did 'cause we all know rocks 

It's the real reason furniture go to the pawn shop 

[K] 'Cause ya crackhead cuz smokin the car antennas 

[B] Understand see... 

[K] It's a junkie in every family 

[B] Them my hand-me-down, tight pants, lookin slim in 'em 

If they too big... 

[K] What you do? 

[B] Put a hem in 'em 

[K] 'Member talkin over the loud sounds when the wind blow 

'Cause the trash bag's replacin yo' car window 

[B] Man, I been poor 

[K] I been poor 

[Both] Man, we been poor! 

That's how it is in the Field, for real 



[Chorus 2x]