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Field Mob - Project Dreams 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 Field Mob - Project Dreams - http://motolyrics.com/field-mob/project-dreams-lyrics.html
 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
 Field Mob Project Dreams








