C.R.E.A.M. Lyrics

Cash rules

Everything around me

I been getting money

I don't give a fuck how you feel dogs

My heart cold

It don't got no feel dogs

You a house nigga

I'm in the field dog

They false claiming

But I'm the real lord

Don't ever question

If I'm real dogs

Three felonies for selling

And a murder wrap that is sealed dogs

I ain't goosing niggas

This is real raw

I'm heavy weight

up on the sea saw

I'm Harlem's boss

You want a detour

You want a key

Or a P or

You got the gwop No hold ups

You could get it right now

Harlem One eleventh

The block that I locked down

And anywhere else in the hood

And the around the whole town

Rappers dream is my reality

I get the salaries Don't cut my calories

Just bring my salad please

I feel the island breeze

Success a bring these non believers

To they doubting knees

Practically ran every house

I been on the island be

And upstate

Yeah I was wilding be

I had a drug charge

But you know I was violent be

Hound styling

Who hounding me

I had the whole Harlem

Down with me

Nigga so

The town Is me

I grew up on the west side of Harlem

The best side of Harlem

On one eleventh street

Where some of the best died in Harlem

You had champ had Preston

And Joe Grant back in time

Now speed it up a bit

Well you know who had them dimes

And rats ain't gotta tell

Now rappers do it in they rhymes

And I ain't tryna let these niggas

Do me like they did big slim

Cause I'm Harlem's own

Hustler in my time

I should get

A medal In gold

Hunnit miles in running

Out here selling these O's

Bunch a tenants round me

How thought that nobody knowed

Now they looking at me

Like he ain't got no self control

My first felony on fifty first

Got caught on the stove

Took the shit to trial

And E Hardy moms and em told

And then they gave me life parole

And that's how the story goes

But it doesn't stop there

Cause it's more to expose

Yeah more about my lows

And not more about my clothes

The other felony I caught

Was with uncle O

We got arrested He signed papers

Like I got to go

Last of what I saw of him In eleven years

When he walked out the door

My belongings Earrings and chain

He took all my gold

And more importantly what's more Importantly is my freedom

You took that away

Now you back in my DM

Talking family shit for your life

While you pleading

I ain't gotta kill you nigga

Karma kill you Then we even