That tonight she?ll go to sleep and dream him home Dream him home Dream him home Oh tonight she?ll go to sleep and dream him home Dream him home Dream him home
tonight she'll go to sleep and dream him home Dream him home Dream him home Oh tonight she'll go to sleep and dream him home Dream him home Dream him home
That tonight she'll go to sleep and dream him home Dream him home Dream him home Oh tonight she'll go to sleep and dream him home Dream him home Dream him home
shit for me A team with a little Terrance and a little g Alfred, Onry and Billy Crazy phat, and my nigga Tyree So when my nigga come home I can put him
keep livin My momma jus hadda dream of seein me in prison (damn) My daddys a dope fein, n i dont really miss him (fuck em) Aint seen him in 10 years
Its just a waste of money, and he was just a dummy I know you kiss hI'm and hug him And tell hI'm that you love him, you lying Because I hit the first
all know how it be you Just been with your man For so long and you think you got him figured out And things aight thats how I was I thought I had him
like a banshee If that's ya man, girl you can forget it I'm standin by the bar, parrot-toed, bowlegged I make him wanna hit the bare guts It ain't his
want to offend him your ticket to fame So you play by the rules It's a cat and mouse game Working girls are lost in dreams Buried in a paperback romance
: This boy he's a midnight driver High roller and a soul survivor She tried to send him on his way He say, hey, I wanna stay If you don't mind I'm hanging
Word on roll you hold my pistol My gangsta bitch that you always in the mood for love that's why I'm sleeping with you Though not the man of your dreams
gravy I rhyme and do crimes, cuz either way pays me A little rough with a hardcore... theme Couldn't rough something rougher in your... dreams Mad rugged
a part time A part time A part time She's a (part time mutha) A part time A part time She's a (part time mutha) I grew up in a home where no-one liked
in the past, and it's clear Just some busta a*s bastards allergic to cash this year Makaveli for the Mob, M-O-B Killin bustaz is my motherf**kin job, him
hood talk It's in the air of New York So everybody'll pick em up, kissin em up Treatin' them like they own, in dis hood we call home Fist fight till we
, comin' home from work, Kept it on the low you lent me two dollars for them burritos, Headed out to the bay to focus on dreams, Sometimes I feel I shoulda
what he needs Now this place is familiar to him She pulls on his hand with a devilish grin She led him upstairs, she led him up stairs Left him dying
done, the life crown has been won And she will be at rest with Him above. And some glad morning, she I know will welcome me. To that eternal home of peace