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styles p - get your dream smash lyrics

[intro]
two guns up n-gg-
and a vest n-gg-, big fonz comin at you n-gg-
think you a gangsta n-gg-? i eat you boy
spit you out and throw you back up n-gg-
quick turn the lights out ‘fore you get your dreams smashed

[styles p]
let’s go poobs
s.p. the gunfire is rapid
and i don’t talk on the phone just in case that the feds tap it
f-ck with me, you a lame, it’s plain the game backwards
i’ma put your brain where your front doormat is
with the pump or the 9-m-m
p harder than jail and your time ain’t end
yeah, it’s the ghost motherf-cker
cop p’s off a block close to post motherf-cker
and i went to broadway for c-ke motherf-cker
and the block close to preston for the dope motherf-cker
and i can name spots that i robbed, work i put in
case you thought that i was not on the job
d-mn, you frontin for who n-gg-?
big mike, green lan’, kay slay or the clue n-gg-
f-ck it keep frontin cause the fans gon’ believe you n-gg-
’til a real n-gg- catch you then he leave you n-gg-
me i’m in the streets of new york, me and my gun
run up on p i’ll shoot your shoes off
frontin n-gg-, pull your coupe off
ice your watch out, floss stacks when they pullin them dice out
matter fact pop crist’, tell that b-tch what your life ’bout
invite her to the studio to see what you write ’bout
sheeit, but i’ll be comin round the corner n-gg-
two guns up, you a motherf-ckin goner n-gg-
sh-t, i’ma show you how to wrong a n-gg-
write a n-gg- swish on his face, straight nike a n-gg-
sh-t goin down when, p don’t like a n-gg-
you ain’t really hard, you just f-ckin actin hyper n-gg-
what?

(yeah poobs)
the ghost, i’m there n-gg-
time is money comin soon, feel what i’m tryin to do

- styles p lyrics

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