J. Cole - American Dream lyrics

(Cryin', cryin', cryin') Yeah, what's up? (Yeah, what's up?) Welcome to America baby (uh) Home of the brave, American Dream (yeah) Uh, yeah Let's go [Jeezy:] I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my j**eler Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula Scarface, into living life like a king Every day eating good with my team (the American Dream) First they said I wouldn't, but I knew that I would make it Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it Scarface vision, living life like a king Every day grinding hard with my team (the American Dream) You either good or you great You either real or you fake That's why I stay spitting the real Because the real ones relate Y'all must was raised by some haters You n***as go ‘head and hate F-F-Four car garage for the ‘Rari, that b**h came with the estate I swear them streets get so tricky, glad I ain't fall for the bait So focused and I'm determined, can see that sh** in my face You n***as go ‘head and face it Lil b**h, ain't sh** 'bout me basic Hit a lick on them b**hes and win an iced out bracelet Never let my flaws and my past come get the best of me Turn a two fifty to a half, I got the recipe First my President was Black, now my President is wack I ain't never going broke, what's American in that? I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my j**eler Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula Scarface, into living life like a king Every day eating good with my team (the American Dream) First they said I wouldn't, but I knew that I would make it Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it Scarface vision, living life like a king Every day grinding hard with my team (the American Dream) [J. Cole:] Got money to make, blow out the candles then cut up the cake Then I put it on plate, I'm running the game, you running in place Still a youngin' at heart, but mentally, b**h I'm a hundred-and-eight Like Pun in the late 90s, my n***as is juggling weight Running from state to state, gunning up ways to safety I'm on a paper chase, whatever it takes to make me A millionaire, silly cause how many really get there? I mean, how many n***as is Jeezy? Y'all make this sh** sound so easy Breezy, turn on the TV, see these n***as that trap on the CD Meanwhile, back home, my n***as sell crack at the BP Hoping one day they can be the n***as is there on the screen ‘Cause that's the American Dream Now here go the thing, listen Hysterical screams, coming from mothers that buried their kings Or the unbearable pain of watching them walk out with the sheriff in chains Becoming a number, they no longer care bout the name White folks been getting rich off of c**aine Through some underhanded methods, I don't got time to explain Out of fear that I won't reach 'em and since preaching ain't my thing I just drop a gem or two within a few verses I sing For all my real n***as trapped inside the game You know that already [Jeezy:] I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my j**eler Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula Scarface, into living life like a king Every day eating good with my team (the American Dream) First they said I wouldn't, but I knew that I would make it Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it Scarface vision, living life like a king Every day grinding hard with my team (the American Dream) [Kendrick Lamar:] (Yeah yuh) These streets made for ballin' (yeah yuh) Ten toes ain't for fallin' (yeah yuh) I hear the world callin' Tell me if ya all in (tell me if ya all in) Look, look, I gotta eat, I gotta, make money with I gotta feast, I gotta re-ly on what is known to the travelin' man Set his own, got my Bible and my rifle in my hand, oh yeah I gotta eat, I gotta, make money with I gotta feast, I gotta re-ly on what is known to the travelin' man Set his own, got my Bible and my rifle in my hand, oh yeah