lirik lagu david dallas - c.r.e.a.m.
[intro]
so, what’s up, man?
coolin’, man
chillin’, chillin’?
yo, you know i had to call, you know why, right?
why?
because, yo, i never, ever call and ask you to play somethin’, right?
yeah
you know what i wanna hear, right?
what you wanna hear?
i wanna hear that wu~tang joint
wu~tang again?
ah, yeah, again and again
d~dot
d~a~double~
l~a~s
david dallas
cash rules everything around me (yeah)
c.r.e.a.m., get the money, dollar, dollar bill, y’all (yeah)
[verse 1: david dallas]
cash ruling, out for a mill’ like papoose, and
slay in a room with bad acoustics
recouping off of the last album still
i’m proving a nuisance, got delusions
of grandeur, not moving grams pure
paps’ version of rob smith, tryna give ’em the d~mn cure
bang raw sh~t through your speakers
either you embrace the hit or get burnеd by the ether
bеliever of bad karma, what go around comes around
just a tad harder, so be careful
make your next step your best step
a fine line between g~nius and madness, get your head checked
in a genre where dudes issue out death threats
enough ain’t enough, all they want is the excess
and access right now, they wonder what i see
in rap, i guess i like the sound, i might cycle round
bet it come back to the same point, it never changes
cash rule everywhere, just here to say it blatant
ain’t no point in hating, better get the apr~n
start cooking a scheme to go and get the paper
[chorus: method man]
cash rules everything around me
c.r.e.a.m., get the money, dollar, dollar bill, y’all
cash rules everything around me
c.r.e.a.m., get the money, dollar, dollar bill, y’all
[verse 2: raekwon]
i grew up on the crime side, the new york times side
stayin’ alive was no jive
had second hands, mom’s bounced on old man
so then we moved to shaolin land
a young youth, yo, rockin’ the gold tooth, ‘lo goose
only way i begin the g off was drug loot
and let’s start it like this, son
rollin’ with this one and that one, pullin’ out gats for fun
but it was just a dream for the teen who was a fiend
started smokin’ woolies at 16
and runnin’ up in gates and doin’ hits for high~stakes
makin’ my way on fire escapes
no question, i would speed for cracks and weed
the combination made my eyes bleed
no question, i would flow off and try to get the dough all
stickin’ up white boys in ball courts
my life got no better, same d~mn ‘lo sweater
times is rough and tough like leather
figured out i went the wrong route
so i got with a sick~ass clique and went all out
catchin’ keys from ‘cross seas
rollin’ in mpv’s, every week we made forty g’s
yo, n~gga, respect mine, or here go the tec~9
ch~chick~pow! move from the gate now
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