Dreamin Of The Past

Kanye WestKanye West 

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Kanye West

Kanye Omari West ( /ˈkɑːnjeɪ/; born June 8, 1977) is an American musician, film director and fashion designer. West first rose to fame as a producer for Roc-A-Fella Records, where he eventually achieved recognition for his work on Jay-Z's album The Blueprint, as well as hit singles for musical artists including Alicia Keys, Ludacris, and Janet Jackson. His style of production originally used pitched-up vocal samples from soul songs incorporated with his own drums and instruments. However, subsequent productions saw him broadening his musical palette and expressing influences encompassing '70s R&B, baroque pop, trip hop, arena rock, folk, alternative, electronica, synthpop, and classical music. more »

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It's levels, it's layers so pray for the players, uh
We hollowed the walls in back of bodegas, uh

I got plenty (I got plenty)
It's so many, yeah (so many, yeah)
They say gimme (they say gimme)
He got plenty, yeah (yeah)

Bruh, you niggas ain't flexin', you crampin'
My weight keepin' niggas on the bikes like Amblin
Weight loss, rent loss, scramblin'
Now pass the champagne to the champion
My niggas get money, get money, get money
Like Ye samplin'
Gun stutter, make the drumline like Grambling
MGM gamblin', blew a small mansion
Annoyed 'cause this bitch callin' Lanvin "Laen-ven"
F*ck who you stampin', them niggas just stand-ins
Not me, they censor and block me
You hollerin', "Top five," I only see top me
Award shows the only way you bitches can rob me

It's levels, it's layers so pray for the players
Clip 'em, baby, if he flinch at the price of Bottega, uh

I got plenty (I got plenty)
It's so many, yeah (so many, yeah)
They say gimme (they say gimme)
He got plenty, yeah (yeah)

Bruh, you niggas ain't drip, you dryin'
Kevlar in his Balenciaga jacket linin'
You and your bitch income combinin'
I'm sendin' Lorraine Schwartz diamond minin'
Find 'em, I came up with Enzo drifters
So you gots to understand there's a difference
There's window stickers and window lickers
You know the type, always tryna get in yo' picture
I was tryna get the dope through, in yo' sister
We won'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, ha

It's levels, it's layers so pray for the players, uh
We hollowed the walls in back of bodegas, uh

I got plenty (I got plenty)
It's so many, yeah (so many, yeah)
They say gimme (they say gimme)
He got plenty, yeah (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"
Yet, always where the money's at like lottery signs
Still I climb, Rockstar, Third Eye Blind
I was bored by these albums, so it gotta be time
No reward for the latter, so it gotta be mine
Huff and puff in the club, then I gotta be Shyne

Properties all across the board this monopoly's mine
Became a minister in my prime so I gotta be Shyne
I used to watch The Fresh Prince and pray the house'll be mine
Could've bought it but I ain't like the way the kitchen designed
Born in a manger, the son of a stranger
When daddy's not home the family's in danger

I got plenty (I got plenty)
It's so many, yeah (so many, yeah)
They say, "Gimme (they say gimme)
He got plenty, yeah" (yeah)

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