Texty:
Four Tops The Dream On

promo shots ain't props I hang out sunroof tops and pop glocks at cops On the mellow, coolin' with my fellow Hustlers, players, super bitch layers Mackaronies on

, somebody get mad and bounce with they football Twenty four hour block parties Everybody on the block pissing you a dark hardy Adults used to think I was scheming But I was dreaming

she had a passion to sing Now she see herself in a casket in dreams These are the children of crack and rap, blacks done lack Self-esteem, yo we forgot the dream On

converted from trey bags to 20's a girl Everybody had money, every summer was real ill Four-finger rings, dealers No half steppin' with flat tops when Rakim reigned Radios on

One, two One, two, three Wake up kids We've got the dreamers disease Age 14 we got you down on your knees So polite, you're busy still saying please

on every street As time goes marching to a different beat Moving on into the restless age As the kids today find their feet (Long enough to hold on)

's because some shit that they heard Like I'm out to get dough, like I'm out to get mo' Hacking like 6 to the 4 like 6 double 0 like four, or either two

In the buildings of the night council It's a meeting of controllers Who drive right through the gates In white roll-tops And I guess this just goes to show The lie dream

converted from trey bags to 20's a girl Everybody had money, every summer was real ill Four-finger rings, dealers No half steppin' with flat tops when Rakim reigned Radios on