Music Video

Jeezy - American Dream (feat J. Cole & Kendrick Lamar)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Jeezy
Jeezy
Vocals
Jesse Brotter
Jesse Brotter
Bass Guitar
J. Cole
J. Cole
Vocals
Kendrick Lamar
Kendrick Lamar
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Songwriter
Kendrick Lamar
Kendrick Lamar
Songwriter
Julius Preston
Julius Preston
Songwriter
Bilal Oliver
Bilal Oliver
Songwriter
Dominick Lamb
Dominick Lamb
Songwriter
Keith Alexander Fogah
Keith Alexander Fogah
Songwriter
Jamie Dean McKay
Jamie Dean McKay
Songwriter
Macintosh Hundal
Macintosh Hundal
Songwriter
Jay Jenkins
Jay Jenkins
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Soundsmith Productions
Soundsmith Productions
Producer
Karl Heilbron
Karl Heilbron
Recording Engineer
Mez
Mez
Recording Engineer
Matt Schaeffer
Matt Schaeffer
Recording Engineer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Recording Engineer
JOHN SCOTT
JOHN SCOTT
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Cryin', cryin', cryin' Yeah, what's up? (Yeah, what's up?) Welcome to America baby (uh) Home of the brave, American Dream (yeah) Uh, yeah Let's go I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my jeweler Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula Scarface, into living life like a king Every day eating good with my team (the American Dream) First they said I wouldn't, but I knew that I would make it Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it Scarface vision, living life like a king Every day grinding hard with my team (the American Dream) You either good or you great You either real or you fake That's why I stay spitting the real Because the real ones relate Y'all must was raised by some haters You niggas go 'head and hate F-F-Four car garage for the 'Rari, that bitch came with the estate I swear them streets get so tricky, glad I ain't fall for the bait So focused and I'm determined, can see that shit in my face You niggas go 'head and face it Lil bitch, ain't shit 'bout me basic Hit a lick on them bitches and win an iced out bracelet Never let my flaws and my past come get the best of me Turn a two fifty to a half, I got the recipe First my President was Black, now my President is wack I ain't never going broke, what's American in that? I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my jeweler Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula Scarface, into living life like a king Every day eating good with my team (the American Dream) First they said I wouldn't, but I knew that I would make it Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it Scarface vision, living life like a king Every day grinding hard with my team (the American Dream) Got money to make, blow out the candles then cut up the cake Then I put it on plate, I'm running the game, you running in place Still a younging at heart, but mentally, bitch I'm a hundred-and-eight Like Pun in the late 90s, my niggas is juggling weight Running from state to state, gunning up ways to safety I'm on a paper chase, whatever it takes to make me A millionaire, silly cause how many really get there? I mean, how many niggas is Jeezy? Y'all make this shit sound so easy Breezy, turn on the TV, see these niggas that trap on the CD Meanwhile, back home, my niggas sell crack at the BP Hoping one day they can be the Niggas is there on the screen 'Cause that's the American Dream Now here go the thing, listen Hysterical screams, coming from mothers that buried their kings Or the unbearable pain of watching them walk out with the sheriff in chains Becoming a number, they no longer care bout the name White folks been getting rich off of cocaine Through some underhanded methods, I don't got time to explain Out of fear that I won't reach 'em and since preaching ain't my thing I just drop a gem or two within a few verses I sing For all my real niggas trapped inside the game You know that already I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my jeweler Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula Scarface, into living life like a king Every day eating good with my team (the American Dream) First they said I wouldn't, but I knew that I would make it Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it Scarface vision, living life like a king Every day grinding hard with my team (the American Dream) Yeah yuh These streets made for ballin' (yeah yuh) Ten toes ain't for fallin' (yeah yuh) I hear the world callin' Tell me if ya all in (tell me if ya all in) Look, look, I gotta eat, I gotta, make money with I gotta feast, I gotta re-ly on what is known to the travelin' man Set his own, got my Bible and my rifle in my hand, oh yeah I gotta eat, I gotta, make money with I gotta feast, I gotta re-ly on what is known to the travelin' man Set his own, got my Bible and my rifle in my hand, oh yeah
Writer(s): Sean Combs, Pat Metheny, Lyle Mays, Tommie Gibson, Robert Ross, Mario Winans, David Bowie, Mark Curry, Matthew Weinberg Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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