Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dynasty , by - Victor Kwesi Mensah. Release date: 02.06.2016
Song language: English
Dynasty |
| The crazy man’s keepin' me up, I’m not sleepin' |
| My fit too fresh to be doin' the housekeepin' |
| The maids cost too much, started cleanin' my own closet |
| Livin' childhood fantasies, dealin' with grown problems |
| Got a brand new bae, she keep me good like the music |
| If the Roc is here, throw up your diamonds and hood cubics |
| No I.D. |
| said it’s time to take these goofy niggas out rap |
| Drop bombs over Baghdad on these SoundCloud outcasts |
| I stray away to say the way my days would be without rap |
| My mind drifts to back before the Chi was labelled Chiraq |
| Then Chief Keef dropped in 2012, now it’s a drill |
| I was waitin' in the wing like a bird on a windowsill |
| Now I’m the fresh prince, I think I know how my uncle feel |
| He sent this dope shit to my veins like fiends on any deal |
| After we build on existing structures, shift the culture |
| Like George Bush searchin' for weapons of mass destruction |
| Think I’m 'bout to blow! |
| But this ain’t the Middle East |
| This the midwest and we the royal family like Della Reese |
| SAVEMONEY the new dynasty like Death Row in '93 |
| The same year my mother’s water broke on 57th St |
| Mama Mensah knew she raised a very special man |
| Young Muhammad in the ring with the power in my hands |
| To defy the federation like Ali in Vietnam |
| The Roc is still alive, throw your diamonds up again |
| Yeah, I carry the Roc like a runnin' back, hundred miles and runnin' back |
| Hov the president, he flyin' private in Obama’s jet |
| Vic the young hitta, I want it with any nigga |
| My problems' deeper than rap, ain’t a problem to bury niggas |
| Cemetery diggers will be ready for your favorite rapper |
| Catch him stompin' in my yard, I step up like a Beta Kappa |
| I am nothin' like these actors, they’re only on camera |
| I hit 'em in the head like Holly Holm hit Ronda |
| And my home is Rwanda, blood diamonds and minors |
| High school students with guns hidin' in their binder |
| Gotta wear a clear bookbag and wear a hood pass |
| Hit you from the blindside, that’s a no look pass |
| Rookie season, Steve Nash, they are just my sons |
| Catchin' alley-oops, catch 'em in the alley, oops |
| I heard a certain who’s who mad that I like the danger |
| Get your priorities straight like Hermione Granger |
| Sixteen in the magazine and one in the chamber |
| Sneak it in the club, that’s a club banger |
| This is not a diss song, this a disclaimer |
| Sorry that your management can’t manage my anger |
| Violence is not the answer but, Lord, they done brought it to me |
| You gon' see a side of me, the South Side taught it to me |
| They gon' think I’m Akeem when I pull up and pull |
| A semi Uzi, auto, fully out the Robert Geller hoodie |
| Yeah, Pelle Pelle bloody, Motown Berry Gordy |
| With the shits, lavatory, hell on Earth, purgatory |
| Minimums is mandatory, crack sentencin' |
| Bad parentin', put his dad on Maury, just another classic story |
| I know there’s no master for me, I don’t even buy chains |
| I don’t rock diamonds, I just need the Roc chain |
| I don’t get high no more, I go high octane |
| They should call the rap game my name, this is my game, Vic! |
| To the police (To the police) |
| You can not (You can not!) |
| You can not (You can not!) |
| You can not (You can not!) |
| You will not (You will not!) |
| Kill me (Kill me!) |
| If you want justice, make some noise, let’s go (whoo!) |
| 16 shots, 16 shots |
| 16 shots, 16 shots |
| 16 shots, 16 shots |
| 16 shots, 16 shots |