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letra de thug poets - 1982

[scratch hook]:
“i’m a poor man’s dream, a thug poet” – nas
“i have a dream” – martin luther king jr
“i said” – jay-z
“i dream filthy” – notorious b.i.g
“i’m a poor man’s dream” – nas
“it was all a dream” – jay-z
“i said” – jay-z
“i dream filthy” – notorious b.i.g
“i’m a poor man’s dream” – nas
“i said” – jay-z
“a thug poet” – nas
“dream filthy” – notorious b.i.g
“a poor man’s dream” – nas

[verse 1: termanology]
i had a dream, martin luther king
but in my dream we had c0ke and triple beams
my influences were older, there was some 100 soldiers
they probably on the wanted poster for a ton of c0ke
shortys never wanna be sober they wanna be like soza
keep a toaster for them folks that wanna come and take your gold
so my a little homie is a latin king, he clap his thing
feel like if he end up in the bing he can adapt to things
so f-ck it, he robbin everybody in the sunlight
he hold his gun tight, pullin a heist was a fun night
put the crack up in the jar, test the pablo escobar
said he gone flip it raw till he nothing less then large
street legends, stay ducking police sentence
hope the priest bless us from all these trees liquor and drugs
i’m the truth, fobbilin out when the club closes
and the thugs know it, showin love to these thug poets

[verse 2] [roc marciano]:
lobby loiterer, soiled brown walley like a foreigner
cocaine boiler, warrior
waldorf astoria, loyal employer, arroz con pollo
goya, got d like a hoya
got a lotta tom sawyer, i take a wh0r- then exploit her
stay sharp can’t avoid her, run me down like jackie joyner
khaki colored caddy for ya, rap performer, smash on ya
fast as i could bag a quarter, with fabric softener
wash with the acid formula
pedigree is high, serve up a pie like a pizza guy
eat 5’s reach the equinox
a lotta stripes like a zebra got
case the flavor like a peac-ck
steam me not let you steam fry
to wrap you up like a bean pie
two piece wing and a fry
thing c-cked, you came to war with a sling shot

[verse 3] [havoc]:
the hood know how to k!ll a n-gga dreams
but i’mma make it out this b-tch by any means
by any means, death to all my enemies
they wanna see a n-gga fillin out up on his feet
as i reach for my weapon got me blastin, askin
what the f-ck is wrong with these b-st-rds?
get the casket, one monkey never stopped a show
i had it in my mind, and ever since i knew i would blow
i had lyrics to go, with superior flow
now all a n-gga seeing is that serious dough
i started from the bottom took this sh-t to the top
now all the b-tches wanna ride me and give h top
what the h-ll why not? i deserve this baby
it’s all gravy, oh my bad yeah it’s all wavey
but all the money in the world couldn’t change me
stay the same through it all give that man an applause
we all got dreams, gotta follow em up
f-ck around don’t do it, streets’ll swallow you up

- 1982

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