Big L, McGruff, Ma$e, Cam’ron, Bloodshed - American Dream lyrics

Mm, check it, yo

Crooked, corrupt
Criminal crime boss with cream
Cocaine hustler
Blowin' out the brains of busters
Be in my mansion, chillin'
Inhalin' the ganja smoke
Counting mad cream, weighin' tons of coke
Guarded by thugs and Rottweilers
I flood the streets with
Drugs and clock dollars
Niggas get plugged when my Glock hollers
Skunk smoker, Philly and Owl ripper
Cristal sipper, I've been a
Willy for a while, nigga
'Gruff got hoes, the man with all the nachos
Expensive hot clothes, drop top Rolls
East coast, West coast, fiends overdose
'Gruff get the cream with my
Team and I'm ghost



This money be temptin' me
To jump out the MPV
Empty three clips of hollow
Tips with no sympathy since fourteen
I sold morphine for more green
Kept dope in a Nautica
Coat under the drawstring
And watched out for cops, squad cars
And Beemers and laundry ninas
Flee the country to Argentina
Laid back in the beach, yeah
Coastin' with commuters
Smokin' the buddahs on the cruise
Line boat to Aruba for a while
Yo pump the vowel so I can pile dough
Then become a Harlem kingpin just like Alpo
Get paid so I can lay low in San Diego
With yayo and ship it out whenever I say so

Yo! Makin' this money is the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast
You know what I mean whether it's Uptown
Downtown you pick the scene
You gots to get your own scheme
We ain't splittin' this cream

Yo! I'ma run hysterically, 'til they bury me
Count numerically, hills of Beverly
More grands than Cherokee president like
Eric B and Rakim
Drug game, I'm top ten locked in
Right now is not a option
And those who creep got the Mac and the heat
They got the five-inch screens in
The back of the seat
And now they got this daddy braggin'
Last year had me saggin', wasn't ready
When Heavy was back and
Tossed me in the paddywagon
But ain't nobody out here stoppin' love
'Cause we was twelve years old
In the Cotton Club, poppin' bub'
So all the fame without the fortune goddamn
You wrong
Killa kid Cam-e-ron surviving in the Amazon

Yo! I leave you dazed and froze
With all kinds of amazing flows
Money surrounded
I counted while bathing with Asian hoes
Back home niggas is after me
I'm back to sea, sippin' daquiris
Coke factory, fiends baggin' up crack for me
From cutting up rocks to investing in stocks
Nautica yachts
And knots busting outta my socks
Now that Bloods play the chubby
All the ladies love me
They hate who made me hubby
Behind my back they say my baby's ugly
Each night I sleep
With freaks with Lamborghini Jeeps
Neighbours be sneaking peeks
At how my semen leaks between the sheets
Mess up my loot, I cut your collars, Juan
Cause these is modern times
And the only thing I see is dollar signs

Yo! Makin' this money is the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast
You know what I mean whether it's Uptown
Downtown you pick the scene
You gots to get your own scheme
We ain't splittin' this cream

Check it! To be seen clean in the mean Beam
Is every team's dream Big L's a cream fiend
With more green than Springsteen
You know I'm crazy quick to smack a groupie
I'm known to mack a hoochie
Do I got stacks of lucci? (Absolutely)
Harlem kids is known for
Felonies and sellin' keys
Pushin 300Z's, GS3's, and puffin' trees
These G's breeze while DTs be yellin
"Freeze!" we stash cheese and keep a
Pocket full of centuries
Ayo, I'm set for the rest of my life
Some clown that laid the threat cause
I had sex with his wife
I stuck my tool to his brain
Said "Act a fool and get slain"
Nigga, yo' bitch chose me
You know the rules to the game

Yo! Makin' this money is the American Dream
East Coast to West Coast
You know what I mean whether it's Uptown
Downtown you pick the scene
You gots to get your own scheme
We ain't splittin' this cream

Yea What? Harlem on the Rise
BloodShed, Killa Kam
Six Figures, Cee-O-Cee, Chuck Blassie
My Man man Ma$e, the Bad Boy uptown, McGruff
Big L, 139, NFL, 140