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lirik lagu the american dream (dusty rhodes) – mankind (sciryl & n8!)

mankind * “the american dream (dusty rhodes)”
[emcee(s): sciryl and !llumin@te]
[producer(s): [?]]

[verse 1: !llumin@te]
i have american dreams
my hands? they can never be clean. i mean, sure
they’re manicured of course, i’m a man of esteem, but i could
never hand an angel its wings unless it’s fried chicken
do you smell what i’m cooking in my kitchen?
am i gonna need an eyewitness? the only
thing i mind is my business. i hit the matrix, tryna
find glitches, so i ain’t got the time to like pictures
no! i have american dreams. i wear
the fabric of whatever it seems. oh, you think you sew
better? in your fancy stitch lo sweater? sh*t is cold!
oh yeah? so is the weather. i’m trying to hold it
together. i have american dreams. you wet
the bed if think european. i’m on the razors edge
back cracking back taxes, i ain’t pay the feds
they got me pinned, but i’m just playing dead. i see
the ropes, ‘bout to raise my leg. on god’s body, i was
saving bread, i’ll resurrect when i pay the debt
that’s a beef that can never be lean. it’s the
pursuit of a better cuisine. what the f*ck do you mean?
when the average civilian is feeling battered in mask
that’s face paint, never tatted like they never had it
bunch of jive time turkey doing burpies. lip service
got your mouth mild herpes from giving slurpies
cocoa beware, there’s no mercy for the hershey
maybe white chocolate put a bulb in your light socket
they got their hands in your life pockets, so get
your head on the right topic and you might stop it
i have american dreams. my search
engine? it could never be bing—i ain’t a jail n*gga
orange is the new white like nailz, n*gga
my stripe shirts tommy hilfiger. for real

[verse 2: sciryl]
uh! i got american dreams. i like
the way that you set up the scheme, an american thing
you do anything to get to the ring, it’s tom
brady with the letterman clean. i ain’t a patriot
i’m a giant. if i wave the finger, this fire
work can’t make a fist, pierre*paul pierce
save the clips, leave the lakers sick. the rope
dusty, so i save the kicks—tim howard, boy
you better believe we ain’t winning, but i’m repping the team
but soccer’s never been america’s thing
come and step up in this wrestling ring against the father of
goldust and watch how you fold up. it’s not my fault
my son decided to go nuts. the attitude
era brought a change to the whole show—that would
explain why my boy went loco, but don’t go
walking ‘round, thinking he’s tonto. american dreams
the wizard of oz, the twitch of the eyes, the feather
the wings, high off homegrown, bumping ice*t
whenever i see po*po. looking
for a black ass attached to white tits, think
that sh*t when i see coco. gluteus
too fat, b00bies is new, black, the coochie is
too gucci, the china is not crack. american dreams
jim duggan with the waving flag. as red
white, and blue fades to black, pay your taxes

- mankind sciryl n8

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