Uhh, what, what, uhh.. 
Chorus: Nas (set to Eurythmics "Sweet Dreams") 
Street dreams are made of these 
Niggaz push Beemers and 300 E's 
A drug dealer's destiny is reaching a key 
Everybody's looking for somethin.. 
Street dreams are made of these 
Shorties on they knees, for niggaz with big G's 
Who am I to disagree? 
Everybody's looking for something.. 
[Nas] 
My man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square 
Headed for Delaware, with one change of gear 
Nothing on my mind but the dime sack we blazed 
with the glaze in my eye, that we find when we crave 
dollars and cents, a fugitive with two attempts 
Jakes had no trace of the face, now they drew a print 
Though I'm innocent 'til proven guilty 
I'ma try to filthy, purchase a club and start up a realty 
For real G, I'ma fulfil my dream 
If I conceal my scheme, then precisely I'll build my cream 
the first trip without the clique 
Sent the bitch with the quarter brick, this is it 
Fresh face, NY plates got a Crooked I for the Jakes 
I want it all, ArmorAll Benz and endless papes 
God's sake, what nigga got to do to make a half million 
without the FBI catching feelings 
Chorus 
[Nas] 
From fat cat to papi, niggas see the cat 
Twenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back 
Holding gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back 
Living with Moms, getting it on, flushing crack down the toilet 
Two sips from being alcoholic 
Nine hundred ninety nine thou from being rich but now I'm all for it 
My man saw it like Dionne Warwick 
A wiser team, for a wiser dream we could all score with 
The cartel Argentina coke with the Nina 
Up in the hotel, smoking on sessamina 
Trina got the fishscale between her 
The way the bitch shook her ass yo the dogs never seen her 
She got me back living sweeter, fresh Caesar 
Guess, David Robinson's, Walle' moccasins 
Bitches blow me while hopping in the drop-top BM 
Word is bond son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this 
Chorus 
[Nas] 
Growing up project-struck, looking for luck dreaming 
Scoping the large niggas beaming, check what I'm seeing
Cars, ghetto stars pushing ill Europeans 
G'n, heard about them old timers OD'n 
Young, early '80's, throwing rocks at the crazy lady 
Worshipping every word them rope rocking niggaz gave me 
The street raised me up, giving a fuck 
I thought Jordan's and a gold chain was living it up 
I knew the dopes, the pushers, the addicts everybody 
Cut out of class, just to smoke blunts and drink naughty 
Ain't that funny? Getting put on to crack money 
With all the gunplay, painting the kettle black hungry 
A case of beers in the staircase I wasted years 
Some niggas went for theirs, flipping coke as they career 
But I'm a rebel stressing, to pull out of the heat no doubt 
With Jeeps tinted out, spending never holding out 
Chorus 2X