"Dollar And A Dream" lyrics - J. COLE
[Intro:]
For all my ville niggas man
All my Carolina niggas man, (lights off and shit)
All my real niggas, no matter where you come from
A dolla and a dream, thats all a nigga got
So if its about that cream, then I'm all up in the spot
I was raised in the F-A-Y (why), a nigga never gave me nothing?
Pops left me, I ain't never cry, baby, fuck him, that's life
And trust me I'm living, look what a nigga made out
The shit that I was given, look what a nigga came out
Momma sewing patches on my holes
Man, our hoes couldn't put this flame out
Straight up, I got my back against the brick wall
I'm from a world where niggas never pop no Cristal, it was pistols
You pass through, you better pray them bullets missed y'all
I thank the Lord, He let a nigga make it this far
A lot niggas don't, a lot of moms weep
I gotta carry on, all the weight is on me
You never know when a nigga might try to harm me
Rest In Peace that nigga John Lee, I pour liquor, homie
It's foul, but yo the world keeps spinning
Gotta keep winning, get up off this cheap linen
Nigga I'mma eat, even if it means sinning
Niggas want beef, I'mma sink my teeth in 'em
Pause, I go harder, I am all about a dollar
You niggas street smart? I'm a motherfucking scholar
So trust me, I ain't stopping 'til my money is long
So much dough, them hoes will think I'm rocking money cologne
Have a model at the crib waiting, "Honey, I'm home."
Cooking greens for a nigga, give 'em plenty, a dome
It's funny, we dream about money so much its like we almost got it
Until we reach up in our pockets, its time to face reality
The ville is a trap nigga now
And if you ain't focused you gonna be here for awhile, yeah
My nigga Mike rolling with me, riding shotgun
Type a nigga know about every car, but don't got one
That's hunger, no wonder niggas fucking with the evils
Posted on the corner, selling crack like its legal
But who am I to judge how a nigga get his paper?
This money coming soon, dog, I'm tryna get my cake up
I guess I gotta wake up these niggas myself
An E&J sipper, but my shit is top shelf
Young J, the rawest shit you niggas ever heard of
A journalist nigga, call me the Fayetteville Observer
You know the routine, man
Fayettnam
Real niggas can relate
And Ville niggas can relate, man
My niggas know about the struggle, man
What you know about your momma sewing patches on your holes, nigga?
I had the light blue jeans with the green patches, haha, oh shit
I was in like first grade man, I swear
It was like the Sixes came out, the Jordan Sixes
Them shit was so fly man, I wanted them so bad
Darryl what up man?
My nigga Darryl had them shits on in class yo
I wanted that shit so bad
I begged my mom for that shit, you know
But she couldn't afford it, yo, she gave me
Got me some Reeboks black tops, ahaha
But that was all good tho, cuz uh
The year after that I had, I had some, some no name shits
Some all black shits, haha
Them shits had metal, metal shoelace buckles and shit, you know?
But you know back then niggas didn't
Niggas ain't even know he was broke man, no worries and shit
But uh, times have changed man, I got bills
My mom is in debt, what you know about that?
College loans and shit, nigga
Gotta get this money, ma