2 PISTOLS

2 PISTOLS - Sweet Dreams lyrics

rate me

That’s that shit, that’s the shit I’m talking about

That’s that shit, that’s the shit I’m talking about

Sweet dreams are made of these

Everybody’s looking for something

Sweet dreams are made of these

Everybody’s looking for something

Some of them wanna use you

Some of them wanna be used by you

More money, more prize

More money, more prize

My clothes, my life

They want my life, they know that right

More money, more prize

From the gutter, selling that crack, nu I ain’t stutter

Word to my brother, Biscayne butter

But that ain’t even what I wanna tell you

What I wannat tell you remember when I fail you…

A lot of niggas trapping ain’t even got bail

But they don’t wanna tell you that

Been gone for a minute but a nigga back

Hold up, new firm with the ceiling back

Somebody acting lame, nigga, what you looking at

Hold on, let me tell you what they looking at

A young nigga…with a lot of cash…

She was selling sweet dreams so I bought a bag

Louis, Bergin, Burberry, now she gets her feelings like February

But I’m level one until a nigga buried

Gone till November, more like January

Slide with a piece like Halle Berry

I’m back, boy, and my paper up

Nigga, talk nice, talk nice

Them sweet dreams you try to sell a nigga, no, we ain’t buying

Sweet dreams are made of these

Everybody’s looking for something

Sweet dreams are made of these

Everybody’s looking for something

Some of them wanna use you

Some of them wanna be used by you

More money, more prize

More money, more prize

My clothes, my life

They want my life, they know that right

More money, more prize

Looking for my weapon, I done found her

You my lady bug so you get yellow flowers

I can make 200 000 in an hour

Count them whores, count that money and the power

I know what you really want, you want a nigga that’s stunting

Be my Cinderella, be loving that pumpkin

You with me guns…

Those broke ass niggas can’t get nothing from me

She 18 but I gotta see ID

Yeah, yeah, lean on me

Sweet dreams are made of these

Everybody’s looking for something

Sweet dreams are made of these

Everybody’s looking for something

Some of them wanna use you

Some of them wanna be used by you

More money, more prize

More money, more prize

My clothes, my life

They want my life, they know that right

More money, more prize

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