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 reaching a key Everybody's looking for something.. Street dreams are made of these Shorties on they knees, for niggaz with big G's Who am I to disagree? Everybody's looking for something.. [Nas] 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 filthy, purchase a club and start up 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 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 catching feelings Chorus [Nas] From fat cat to papi, niggaz 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, Walle' moccasins Bitches blow me while hoppin in a drop-top BM Word is bond son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this Chorus [Nas] Growing up project-struck, looking for luck dreaming Scoping the large niggaz 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 niggaz gave me The street raised me up, giving a fuck I thought Jordan's 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 naughty 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 niggaz 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 2X