Tara Chase - What Dreams are Made Of lyrics

[Verse 1: DL Incognito] DL Incognito on the low clever Always and forever tough like shot leather n***as is all featherweights, I break bread and cake I rape crates, got twenty zips of beats made I've paid my dues now I'm waitin for change Waitin for planes waitin for the four point six range It's outta my league, you must be ill in the brain Yeah yeah I'm underground but I'm sayin I need shoes and food I'm tellin you dudes I'm not tryin to rob the train I'm wanna cruise in the Land Let loose on an island were my skin can tan Drink juice find trans for my campered fam I wanna house, gra**, garage, a hardwood floors, a sports car Is that too much to ask for? A place to lay my head when I'm back from tour A Brita filter so my water can be pure, like yours [Hook] Yeah it's kinda bug but moneys what we love And that be the stuff that dreams are made of Yeah we in the clubs but moneys what we love And that be the stuff that dreams are made of Yeah sometimes we thug but moneys what we love And that be the stuff that dreams are made of Yeah it's all because it's money that we love And that be the stuff that dreams are made of [Verse 2: Tara Chase] Yeah, I'd like to eat good too Been starvin for years Pa**ed through time to get meat on my bones And cell phones Time to pay creditors back and school loans Man listen, been in the kitchen an eternity Cookin, dishin, who deserves to be more than me Vanity is keepin me from livin happily Got images on BET breakin my sanity Long live hip hop But whats wrong with gettin cash for my crop At the end of the day I want more than memories Brown and green leaves for my family trees That's right.. I wanna get a house for moms A tat sayin rich b**h down both of my arms A broke picket fence and a bag of kids So I can teach 'em how to dominate the music biz [Hook] [Verse 3: DL Incognito] Yo it's a joke bein broke this this Hopin my numbers in the lottery get picked real quick Tryin to work a nine to five but they pay me like sh** Ten an hour ain't enough to get a six Yo ten an hour ain't enough to get sh** I need my own place, a home with no roommates Where we only eat great, lobster and steak Yo white grapes, a bottle of Chardonnay I want my wife in a gown, a pool in the ground Not f**in around my gear academically sound I wanna frown cause the sun's in my face I wanna spend pounds in a birthplace a drum and ba** Don't ever wanna stress abnout money and papes I wanna travel like Magellan in his day I wanna sit in the front row of Fantasia A two-way pager, and escalade or a Navigator [Hook - 2X]