[Intro: Jeezy]
(Cryin', cryin', cryin')
Yeah, what’s up? (Yeah! What’s up?)
Welcome to America baby (uh)
Home of the brave, American Dream, you know? (yeah)
Uh, yeah, yeah
Let’s go

[Chorus: Jeezy]
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 (what's up?)
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 (I knew it n***a!)
Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it (what's up?)
Scarface vision, living life like a king
Every day grinding hard with my team, the American Dream

[Verse 1: Jeezy]
You either good or you great, you either real or you fake
That's why I stay spittin' the real because the real ones relate
Y'all must was raised by some haters, you n***as go ahead 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 n***as go 'head and face it, lil' bitch, ain't shit 'bout me basic
Hit a lick on them bitches and went and iced out a 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?
[Chorus: Jeezy & J. Cole]
I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my jeweler (yeah)
Get a hard-on when I'm counting up that mula (ha ha!)
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 (alright)
Copped my first pie, yeah, I knew that I could bake it (alright)
Scarface vision, living life like a king
Every day grinding hard with my team, the American Dream

[Verse 2: J. Cole]
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 youngin' at heart, but mentally, bitch I'm a hunnid'-and-eight
Like Pun in the late 90s, my n***as is juggling weight
Running from state to state, gun in the waist for 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 n***as is Jeezy?
Y'all make this shit sound so easy
Breezy, turn on the TV, see these n***as that trap on the CD
Meanwhile, back home, my n***as sell crack at the BP
Hoping one day they can be thee
N***as 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 'em walk out with the sheriff in chains
Becoming a number, they no longer care about 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 n***as trapped inside the game
You know that already
[Chorus: Jeezy]
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 (ha ha!)
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

[Outro: Kendrick Lamar]
(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