Street Dreams (Acappella)

Avatar the Articulate - “Street Dreams”
[Emcee(s): Avatar the Articulate (AKA Avie Fresh)]
[Producer(s): Trackmasters (Original Instrumental from “Street Dreams”)]

[Hook: Avatar the Articulate (AKA Avie Fresh)]
Street dreams are made of these
Niggas push Beamers and 300E’s
A drug dealer’s destiny is reaching a key
Everybody’s looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Shorties on their knees for niggas with big G’s
Who am I to disagree?
Everybody’s looking for something

[Verse 1: Avatar the Articulate (AKA Avie Fresh)]
I get a
Perfect portion of pussy and more than that, a plethora
Quarterback, etcetera, Fantasy League pleasurer
President and treasurer, evidence-exhibitor
Phallus is wetted up in a palace with Hefner sluts, I’ll rhyme ill
Every analogy, I kill—don’t try to battle me
I’m ill in the Ville or the military academy
Upstate New York, hawked product taking off, boss. I had
To skate, shooting at jake, state troopers up north
With a jeweled-up cross and some nubucks on. Hoes go
“Where did your roof go?” It just flew the fuck off, and holding
Gats never made me top cat, snitches and rat yap
They’re spending all they energy trying to get revenge at me
I got the tendency like Pac to cop Hennessey
Cops remember me busting shots at the lieutenant’s jeep
Somebody said to me that sweet dreams are made of these
‘88 Landcruisers and 190 E’s
Mumia dreams of walking the streets, being free. Why you
Costing us time talking your rhymes on CD, nigga?

[Hook: Avatar the Articulate (AKA Avie Fresh)]
Street dreams are made of these
Niggas push Beamers and 300E’s
A drug dealer’s destiny is reaching a key
Everybody’s looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Shorties on their knees for niggas with big G’s
Who am I to disagree?
Everybody’s looking for something

[Verse 2: Avatar the Articulate (AKA Avie Fresh)]
I shoot it
Up like Stackhouse, gats clapping in the crack house
Get your MACs out. It’s time to black out when I rap ‘bout
The drug game—let me explain: shorties exclaim this thug’s
Name, Renee and Naynay come by to play when it’s
My payday. To reup, I’m G’d up. I try
To act hard like Ray J, but we nut and after
That, it’s back to counting racks and packing stacks. Sluts we fuck
Then get the crack to the crack house, collect bucks
Deluxe burners? Pull ‘em out just to earn a
Reputation from this vet you’re facing. At twelve
Paces, left the shells laying by my laces on the pavement
Crime enslavement, then you find my 9 by braces
Say shit, I place clips like bomb squads
Jumpstarting cars, real thugs with no bodyguards
Trees is blowing—don’t give a fuck if D’s are showing
Detectives get the TEC from the kid
Guns up, Sun’s up, shooting every motherfucker
Brothers suffer ‘cause I’m plucking ‘em off with my 9
45 RPM—round per minute—needle spins
Evil sins, Timbs in a cathedral, puffing lye
Went through a crack odyssey, a lot of racks and bodies be
Constantly aching, shells rattle the pavement
Battle brave shit, kiss the dice and shake it
Cartier bracelet, .38 by my waist hip
‘Cause I rock best, my Glock don’t rest from here to Loch Ness
CÎROC, no Chris, hold a knot so fresh, pop
Off one in your chest, drop one in your vest (Yes)
Cops test? Arresting me not your destiny. Rocks
Infest the street made out of crack and rap recipes
That Av guy makes the caps fly—don’t mess with he
I rest with heat like I sleep in jacuzzis
Or a sauna, split your armor, hit you with your Uzi in your parka
My clips move you to the parlor, bruise you, hit your
Mama, then I spark a spliff of ganja. Yeah
I sip a Beck’s, eject a round, and that’s
The way I’ll put it down. At nighttime, you’ll hear the sound
Bitches I’ll mow down—it’s so profound how the hoes
Pound, so, bro, I’ll blow the town—not like Monica
Light niggas up like menorahs on Hanukah, pass
The skama to the last assassin. Want drama? That ass I’m blasting

[Hook: Avatar the Articulate (AKA Avie Fresh)]
Street dreams are made of these
Niggas push Beamers and 300E’s
A drug dealer’s destiny is reaching a key
Everybody’s looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Shorties on their knees for niggas with big G’s
Who am I to disagree?
Everybody’s looking for something
Street dreams are made of these
Yo, fuck it, since we’re biting: all eyes on me
Street dreams are made of these
Shorties on their knees in threes ‘cause all eyes on me
Who am I to disagree?
Everybody’s looking—all eyes on me
Street dreams are made of these
Niggas push Beamers and all eyes on me