Remix of Drake's "Dreams Money Can Buy"

Instrumental:

Drake - Dreams Money Can Buy

Lyrics:

(Colored Vincent)
I got a car honey, some fresh start money
Take all your thoughts and put them away in a jar honey
They light up like fireflies on a summer night
Don’t let them escape, shut it tight with all your might

Yeah, that’s what it sounds like in my head
But that’s not the way she’s hearing it in someone else’s bed
Tells me that we should be friends, we’re better off alone instead
Stuck behind all of these bars like I got hauled off by the feds

Uh, sitting down in the lounge
Tryna figure out the words that go perfect with this sound
All this shit is going down 
One week it’s drama next it’s karma, the fucking king gave me his crown

At the top is where you wanna be
But when you’re at the top the only shit you see is wanna bes
And I just wanna go home, to a place that I might wanna be
Except I walk around the city streets so somberly 

I want a condo with a girl in LA
We go down to Hawaii to get ourselves “leid”
I keep thinking the path I’m taking is the right way
But sometimes it’s easy to stop the work and just pray

Dreams money can’t buy
Are we drinking a little more you should probably supply
Got a family of four you can hardly provide
But I get it, ask your dad, you’ll get a reply

-
(Sir Real)
Look

My ideals haven’t serviced me since nursery. 
A person sees me but can’t perceive all the uncertainties, 
So deeply immersed in me that even surgery, 
Couldn’t get this doubt out without hurting me. 

And even though we’re currency, burning we,
Never seem to come up out of it burden free. 
Where the sermon be? Lights start flashing in emergency,
But now I just bow my head and wonder where the curtains be. 

And I’m so sick of being sick of things. 
Living in a situation where nobodies listening. 
Missing the distinction between simply giving in.
And sipping for the pitiful bliss a little liquor brings. 

And only this is when my fickle friends are chipping in,
Like their new mission is the dividend to take a hit again. 
Kids I called "sibling," Lion- Michigan. 
Just to cut my presence off where the ribbon’s been.  

Low hits, go and expose the hatchet to throw it 
At those I made opponents with my own shit.
Supposed to stay focused, toed in by hopeless moments
With no quits, when I try to keep my head up, get my throat slit,

I got some dreams that money excuses. 
And a wallet full of reams, but I rarely use it. 
The fun’s ruined, can’t jump on a therapeutic- scared we blew it. 
Nothing to do but move moods through the music. 

Yeah, yeah

Dreams Money Can't Buy (with District 4)

Yung A$AP Cocky (by SUCKAFREE)

Lyrics

(Yung Etc. & Sir Real J.)
Young niggas run this shit out here

No hook.

Yeah, Sir Real J.

(Sir Real J.)
I’m a District Maniac. 
This tricked, spit sick wit ‘till I reign the track.
What type of game is that? The type with no aiming back. 
Chilling with some trees, taking shots where Cheney at?

Gazing at my pendants, and 80 grand benzes, 
through ray ban lenses, Jay has expenses. 
I be, sick as an IV. 
Try me and I’ll bring you back to your senses.

Fall off, no but really fall off
Got the hottest calling shots and we mocking molotovs 
And lob ‘em at all y’all. Halt or get hauled off. 
To the altar, off and offered to the top dog. 

I’m just kidding, I’ve been tripping in my Hollywood loft. 
Sipping and swallow pink shit by the bottle, tryna stall coughs.
Now I feel awfully different, can’t stop from spitting off top. 
Wait I meant getting off topic, let’s get some tonic on rocks.

You tryna see stars, we scarred, still got that keyed arm, 
from when I hit the heat hard. 
When I hit you, you meet the ER. Fuck PR. 
All you do is steel bars like it’s rebar. 

I’ve been under the impression, that’s there’s only this direction. 
It’s been non stop moving to the top slot section. 
Onslaught in the booth, spitting automatic weapon,
So where is Charleton Heston? Cuz these beats need some protection.

Cuz I just fuck em up, with that sucker punch upper-cut 
The ovens what I’ve become, because my heat be running up.
Like heat stroke, when the beat goes, a kilo got me Steve-O.
Got jaws I’m in beast mode, got pause I’m in Tivo. 

My cause if for these folks, to see how I rewrote.
The status quo, an animal, I’m ill and there’s no antidote.
Taking shots no cannon though, the hammer go, and damage foes, 
get Barry’d like Manilow- the mans below, the granite stone.

We a finite type, I’m the finest, 
Finalist in the fight for finding life’s finance. 
Currently, my currency’s been flowing with a current’s speed. 
It’s surreal- wallet staying tighter than my rhyming. I’m signing off


(Yung Etc.)

[Y'all done fucked up now, I've teamed up with a white boy]

I'm already proven stupid but I'm boutta go dumb again
Your bitch is like the end zone, watch a nigga run it in
Masked up, all up in your crib like I'm your son and shit
Watch me peel a rapper, get it popping like some gum and shit

I be on that money shit, racks over everything
Trap life, whippin up the crack on the karosene
Dick her good, wish she would ask for a wedding ring
She can hit the door, like she out Christmas caroling

Shout out to the Terapins, Chili fuck da city up
It ain't take a lot to beat the top, its like a titty fuck
I'm a bottle popper, you ciroc'ing out a sippy cup
Made it rain on her, you was hating like "precipi-what"?

Nigga precipitate, you should get scrilla straight
I be tryna pitch an 8th, you be tryna catch a date
Got me on that pick a prize shit, boutta catch a case
Now you on that live or die shit when this semi spray

Boutta go in overdrive, these hos of mine, are so in line, I work a bitch like over time, she's so a dime, I stroke behind, I broke her spine, I owe a fine, I told her I'm, I'm the coldest kind, patron wit lime, Damn
Name another nigga cold as I

I got bars, I'm bar codes
Chips, cheese, I got nachos
I stack lettuce, u got beef, I keep shells, tacos
Chain the color of charcoal, bitch the color of lemonade
If time is money, I'm an hour past, you niggas minute made, bitch

No Hook (Sir Real J. & SUCKAFREE)

This that contrast music right here.

Ay I’m not average, like, I’m not average.
Why you so mad bitch? Maybe cuz you
Get to feeling so average, seeing me have this
Wishing I were average, but it’s not true.
 
(Sir Real J.)
They say I’m A-V-E, with RAGE call me “Average.”
But women disagree; they say I’m the baddest.
And she be all up one me, cuz I be up on the atlas.
And if she got a kitten, then I’m swimming like catfish.

So savage- Phillip Sey-mour fruits round here whining than a cup of pinot.
Making clubs bounce like hydraulics under these floors.
Not talking B5, cuz I did it before.
 
And life’s a detour, nothing goes as planned.
But I never miss a beat; I just keep up with the band.
I’m the man, eat this green up like Sam-I-Am.
And I rap like saran, you just don’t understand.
 
And uhh, I’m feeling like they should be kneeling.  
My flows more appealing than the shit they are dealing.
With people now seeing how my lines and hooks reeling
All these fans in, now I’ve got more than a ceiling. 
 
Ay I’m not average, like, I’m not average.
Why you so mad bitch? Maybe cuz you
Get to feeling so average, seeing me have this
Wishing I were average, but it’s not true. ( x2 )

(KOMA) 
Aye! Not average,
Everytime I lay it down, I wear a loin cloth, too savage
Got so much swag, I gotta carry extra baggage,
Flow like Penn and Teller, yea you can call that magic, Zap! 

Brannigan's man again.
Coolin with my bro's like sittin in flanigans,
South Florida reference like i'm tryna get a tan again,
Hotter than a cooling fan, colder than desert sand,

Skrit, take a pause to understand,
I'm no ordinary man, like Feld's extraordinary fam, 
Def poetry jam, I spit this shit for-real,
Off my mandel shit, tryna get a deal,

Rockin colors like turquoise and teal,
When your girls near me, she tries to get a feel,
I took your girl while ballin, call that a steal,
Now she knows the deal, i hope the world likes this, mass appeal.

Ay I’m not average, like, I’m not average.
Why you so mad bitch? Maybe cuz you
Get to feeling so average, seeing me have this
Wishing I were average, but it’s not true. ( x2 )

Sir Real J

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