Actual Proof — Dream

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Текст Actual Proof — Dream

«It was all a dream» B.I.G. said, now I drink
Chillin’ on my steps, fresh
Headphones round my neck, to death, it was ’96

Bumpin’ Funk Flex, mom’s living cheque to cheque
Head in the clouds, wishin’ for fresh kicks
Lived two doors down from around the way chick
Cool clean cut, suburban ya get?

Hi-top fade, two parts in my hair
Long gold chain, thoughts on a brain
Love the rap game but since the slight change
A crying shame but the prize I aim for

Hard to paint but rap cryin’ the same song
Life’s a a trade-off, man whatchu afraid of?
Whatchu made of? We bleed the same blood
Love with the same love but life’s a bitch and sometimes full of shit

And it’s all stained up
We balled on the same courts, bald stained a few
Family balled on the corner feelin’ salty
It taught me not to rush, to walk, stand up

Now it’s one for all, my nigga all for one
I drink some
Fly pidgeons in the plaza, Italiana, grazie, thanks
I’m a persona, non grada

I got a few propositions, cop Obama visions
Hope my knees keeps the dream alive and seize the prism
But never prison, she’s a princess, stress to her
Values and virtues and pray she learns to keep it true

I’m a provider, protective over folk
I try to keep her close under my wing until the wind slow
Keep it one trillion, like a small time deficit
The precedent is set, we push peddle it

Socrates our hypotheses the talented ten
They pretend we don’t exist like ghosts in the wind
See me coastin’ again, raise a pen
They depend on my words to curb any absurd urge

But I defer, just speaking my thoughts lost in Boston
Hustlin’ like Malcolm, the alchemy of Martin in my soul
Yea, away we go, close the books, we got another one
Don’t overlook and now you know, let’s go