Dreamin' Of The Past (feat. Kanye West)

(I was dreamin' of the past)

It's levels, it's layers, so pray for the players, uh

We hollowed the walls in back of bodegas, uh

(And my heart was beatin' fast)

I got plenty, it's so many, yeah

They say: Gimme, he got plenty, yeah

Bruh, you niggas ain't flexin', you crampin'

My weight keepin' niggas on the bikes like Amblin

Weight loss, rent loss, scramblin' (I began to lose control)

Now pass the champagne to the champion

My niggas get money, get money, get money like Ye samplin' (I began to lose control)

Gun stutter, make the drumline like Grambling

MGM gamblin', blew a small mansion (I was dreamin' of the past)

Annoyed 'cause this bitch callin' Lanvin Laen-ven

Fuck who you stampin', them niggas just stand-ins (and my heart was beatin' fast)

Not me, they censor and block me

You hollerin': Top five, I only see top me

Award shows the only way you bitches could rob me (I was dreamin' of the past)

It's levels, it's layers, so pray for the players

Clip 'em, baby, if he flinch at the price of Bottega, uh (and my heart was beatin' fast)

I got plenty, it's so many, yeah

They say: Gimme, he got plenty, yeah

Bruh, you niggas ain't drip, you dryin'

Kevlar in his Balenciaga jacket linin'

You and your bitch income combinin' (I began to lose control)

I'm sending' Lorraine Schwartz diamond minin'

Find 'em, I came up with Enzo drifters (I began to lose control)

So you gots understand there's a difference

There's window stickers and window lickers (I was dreamin' of the past)

You know the type, always tryna get in your picture

I was tryna get the dope through, in your sister (and my heart was beatin' fast)

We weren't baggin' up the work, wouldn't be no dishes

Be no Christmas, mistletoe, be no kisses

Made a way for ourselves, we ain't need no wishes, hah (I was dreamin' of the past)

It's levels, it's layers, so pray for the players, uh

We hollowed the walls in back of bodegas, uh (and my heart was beatin' fast)

I got plenty, it's so many, yeah

They say: Gimme, he got plenty, yeah

Walk it down like Brady, gets better with time

Didn't have to reinvent the wheel, just a better design

Critics: He's out of his mind, haters: He's out of his prime (I began to lose control)

Yet, always where the money's at like lottery signs

Still I climb, rockstar, Third Eye Blind (I began to lose control)

I was bored by these albums so it gotta be time

No reward for the latter, so it gotta be mine (I was dreamin' of the past)

Huff and Puff in the club, then I gotta be Shyne

Properties all across the board, this monopoly's mine (and my heart was beatin' fast)

'Came a minister in my prime so I gotta be Shyne

I used to watch The Fresh Prince and pray the house would be mine

Coulda bought it, but I ain't like the way the kitchen design (I was dreamin' of the past)

Born in the manger, the son of a stranger

When daddy's not home, the family's in danger (and my heart was beatin' fast)

I got plenty, it's so many, yeah

They say: Gimme, he got plenty, yeah