thee ghetto dreams

Common kills it...

I want a bitch that look good and cook good
Cinderella fancy, but she still look hood
Butt naked in the kitchen flipping pancakes
Plus she tricking from the dough that her man makes
We got our own handshake
Her titties ain’t fake
Fucking in the car cause we just can’t wait to get home
Early in the morn’ getting stoned
Pretty with her eyes low, runny by Bible
The type of bitch that BIG said he would die for
Is the type that I would rather stay alive for
Tatts on her back, looking all tribal
She know shoes like she know survival
Well put together, she weathers the storm
Seen her brother die so forever she’s strong
Hear Beyonce’s song and she gotta perform
Whether fucking or fighting: we getting it on!

I don’t even say shit, she can feel it
I toss the realest, sold nails acrylic
Ass is a weapon and it’s hard to conceal it
Baby in one arm, the other is a skillet
Frying chicken, macaroni
Raise on the back of stony
Ghetto press, she’s my apolonni like
Tony, Montana
Reminded me of my, of my mama
Knowing the drama like she know when to joke
Steal a nigga’s squares, not wanting me to smoke
I poke my head out of Benzes
My beats is the streets and I know who my friends is
In this love for the money, power and clothes
My ghetto housewife watch reality shows
She might get to snapping if the canvas aint closed
When the cameras snap snapping, she’s ready to pose