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children of the corn - american dream (demo version 2) lyrics

[intro: mcgruff]
mm, check it, yo

[verse 1: mcgruff]
yo, crooked corrupt criminal crime boss with c.r.e.a.m
cocaine hustla, blowin’ out da brains of bustas
be in my mansion, chillin’, inhalin’ ganja smoke
countin’ mad c.r.e.a.m., weighin’ tons of coke
guarded by thugs and rottweilers
i flood the streets with drugs and clock dollaz
n+ggas get plugged when my glock hollaz
skunk smoker, philly and owl ripper, cristal sipper
i’ve been a willie for a while, n+gga
‘gruff got hoes, the man with all the nachos
expensive hot clothes, drop+top rolls
east coast, west coast — fiends overdose
‘gruff get the c.r.e.a.m. wit’ my team, then i’m ghost!

[verse 2: ma$e]
this money be temptin’ me to jump out the mpv
empty three clips of hollow tips wit’ no sympathy
since 14, i sold morphine for more green
kept dope in the nautica coat, under the drawstring
and watched out for cops, squad cars and bimmers
and larger ninas, flee the country to argentina
lay back on the beach, yeah, coastin’ with commuters
smokin’ the buddhaz on the cruise line boat to aruba
for a while, yo, pumped the vile so i could 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
[chorus]
yo! makin’ this money’s the american dream
east coast to west coast — you know what i mean
whether it’s uptown or downtown — you pick the scene
you gotta get your own scheme, we ain’t splittin’ this green

[verse 3: cam’ron]
yo, i’mma 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 10, locked in, right now is not a option
and those who creep — got the mag’ in the heat
to guard the 5+inch screens in the back of the seat
and now they got this daddy braggin’
last year, had me saggin’
wasn’t ready when teddy was baggin’
tossed me in the paddy wagon
but ain’t n0body out here stoppin’ love
’cause we was 12+years+old in the cotton club, poppin’ bubb’
so all the fame without the fortune? godd+mn, you wrong!
k!lla kid cam’ron, survivin’ in the amazon

[verse 4: bloodshed]
yo, i leave you dazed and froze with all kinds of amazin’ flows
money surrounded, i count it while bathin’ with asian hoes
back home, n+ggas is after me
i’m past the sea sippin’ daiquiris
coke factories, fiends baggin’ up crack for me
from cuttin’ up rocks to investin’ in stocks
nautica yachts and knots bustin’ out of my socks
now that blood’s paid and 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 in lamborghini jeeps
neighbors be sneekin’ peeks
of how my s+m+n leaks between the sheets
mess up my loot, i’ll cut ya collars, juan!
’cause these is modern times
and the only thing i see is dollar signs
[chorus]
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 green

[verse 5: big l]
check it!
to be seen clean in the mean bimm’ is every teen’s dream
big l’s a c.r.e.a.m. 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
a+yo, i’m set for the rest of my life
some clown that laid a threat ’cause i had s+x with his wife
i stuck my tool to his brain, said “act a fool and get slain”
n+gga, yo’ b+tch chose me, you know the rules to the game!

[chorus]
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 green
[outro]
yea what? harlem on the rise
bloodshed, k!lla kam
six figures, cee+o+cee, chuck blassie
my man man ma$e, the bad boy
uptown, mcgruff
big l, 139, nfl, 140

- children of the corn lyrics

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