Field Mob - Project Dreamz Lyrics

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Verse 1 [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, steer, and dash door 
Choppin on seventeen inch indies 
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's come in I heat ya 
You ain't gotta walk in the sun, I A.C. ya 
Don't worry 'bout that burgular comin to creep ya 
He trapped by alarms and the millimeter 
I'm a do or die ol' playa for my people, follow a leader I'm my brotha's keeper, for real

[Chorus-both (Boondox and Kalage)]
I'ma 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'ma 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 
You ever been broke put your hands up 
You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up 

Verse 2 [Kalage]:

What ya know 'bout havin no dough, no coat for the winter 
Remember, we poor folk 
Most cut yolk and smoke 'ports, cut throats and ya dope hoe 
Talk about they wanna 'Lac with four do's, no Vogues 
Wood kit and Momo's 
Outfits- Polo, pockets- so swole, 
Jenny Craig called- Escalade hog in the yard
Breakin off ya folks too, belly full of soul food 
Chitt'lins, greens, pork chops, green beens 
Yeah I pray for that, each and every day I rap 
I rap with God, 'cause I feel you ain't really safe with gats 
We escape slacks, but government helped in welfare 
My folk cries to the law and ain't no help there 
We ain't had much, the 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 thangs and maintain 
Mo' so, I ain't gotta slang 'caine no mo' 
Hell yeah boy, you really understand dirt 
Well I'ma rap and you gon' clap until your hands hurt 
I ain't the only person feel like I feel, got ta live like I live 
And wanna chill, for real 

[Chorus]

Verse 3 [Boondox and Kalage (B=Boondox; K=Kalage)]:

[B] Now put your hands up if you're broke folks tried 
to spoil ya 
With fried bologna sandwiches and sugar water 
[K] 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 then, '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] 'Member 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 po' 
[K] I been poor 
[Both] Man, we been po'! 
That's how it is in the Field, for real 

[Chorus 2x]

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lyrics submitted on 28-06-2006
lyrics corrected on 28-06-2006