Sweet Dreams (remix; Featrkelly) Lyrics - From Illmatic To Stillmatic: The Remixes - Nas

Uhh, what, what, uhh. 

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Street dreams are made of these 

Niggaz push Beemers and 300 E's 

A drug dealer's destiny is reachin a key 

Everybody's lookin for somethin. 

Street dreams are made of these 

Shorties on they knees, for niggaz with big G's 

Who am I to disagree? 

Everybody's lookin for somethin. 

My man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square 

Headed for Delaware, with one change of gear 

Nothin 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 fullfill 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 catchin feelings 

From fat cat to papi, niggaz see the cat 

Twenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back 

Holdin gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back 

Livin with moms, gettin it on, flushin crack down the toilet 

Two sips from bein alcoholic 

Nine hundred ninety nine thou from bein 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, smokin 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 livin sweeter, fresh Caesar 

Guess, David Robinson's, Walle' moccasins 

Bitches blow me while hoppin in the drop-top BM 

Word is bond son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this 

Growin up project-struck, lookin for luck dreamin 

Scopin the large niggaz beamin, check what I'm seein 

Cars, ghetto stars pushin ill Europeans 

G'n, heard about them old timers OD'n 

Young, early 80's, throwin rocks at the crazy lady 

Worshippin every word them rope rockin niggaz gave me 

The street raised me up, givin a fuck 

I thought Jordan's and a gold chain was livin 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? Gettin put on to crack money 

With all the gunplay, paintin the kettle black hungry 

A case of beers in the staircase I wasted years 

Some niggaz went for theirs, flippin coke as they career 

But I'm a rebel stressin, to pull out of the heat no doubt 

With Jeeps tinted out, spendin never holdin out 

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