Dynasty ft. Sid... Lyrics

Yeah, let's get this one, baby

Witcho lil' dumb ass

It's like that, it's like that, it's like that

Consider Sidney a good fuck with a troubled past

I hate it, but maybe should be the one to ask

What's become of rap

I understood the assignment and every fucking task

And the last thing I'm gon' ever do is come in last

So whenever I tell you I'm in my fucking bag

It's a humble brag

If I ain't the dopest breathing, where the fuck he at

Street scholar, to my knowledge, y'all some undergrads

Planning on counting me out

Redo your fucking math

Sidney Shakur, Makaveli, to the fucking max

Fuck your mother, brother, son, and dad

Your existence just a fumbled pass

Mama told me, son, don't nothing last

But I'm the illest right now

And it won't change when your son has passed

Just tell McFolley that I love her ass

My trap house walls don't talk, but if they did, shit

They have more confessions than Usher had

Fuck more bitches than Usher has

I'll leave your lady in a fucking trance

The crown I hold, nowhere up for grabs

Reach for it and you'll get humbled fast

Every punchline, a Pacquiao uppercut or jab

Me and Deezy like Kurupt and Daz

Underground king, the trillest nigga since Uncle Chad

I never fold or break or put my unborn son in plaid

Leave your head in some roses on your mother's porch

In a fucking Louis Duffel bag with a sticky note attached

That say, make another one

Can't stop till I run the Gump

Pussy for dinner, beats for breakfast

Drugs and rum for lunch

All I could ever pay a crumb is dust

Sidney Silverstone, Gumpton's captivating

Clusterfuck, you know what the fuck is up

Nigga, despite the split me and Zay Dame and

Jigga, your favorite's favorite nigga

Playin', you'll push daisies, nigga

That ain't why you wanna be famous, nigga

As a child, the village couldn't even raise me, nigga

Zay gon' and cock it back and aim at niggas

Yeah, check this out, you tuned into a hearse roller

Turn my hoe designer purse toter

Show you how the murder flows

By the time that this verse is over

Who colder? I shoot for center mass

Divide your shirt and shoulders

Got you on the ropes, I'm slippin' jabs

A wizard with this pen and pad

Give a bad bitch more problems than ACT

If she play with me, lyrics are epidemic

I'm sick and there's no escaping me

Don Entendre , every time he drop it's hard

He Swanton Bomb ya

This like Prime Time in the Combine kinda

Finish lines and runnin' straight to the jet

This like seein' a kid with NBA skills

That still just play at the rec

Say it direct, they ain't a threat

Who wanna catch it? I be the quarterback

The Lord is back, I rap sure, but I trap more

You don't get what you ask for

Only what's supposed to come to you

So till I touch a hundred million bucks

I'm just uncomfortable

And we got snakes lying, pigs, and rats all in rap

This shit a jungle too

Who at the top get heaved off the cliff

No love for Huxtables

The only thing could possibly stop me

Is a tracheotomy

The only thing my pops talk about

Is I make them proud of me

Like Joakim, I know a shy

Bitch, I hit with a rose on

Now every time she call me FaceTime

It's without the clothes on

I'm only slappin' slow songs

I know niggas, they raps about sellin' dope

I ain't sold on

Stealin' flows, get them stole on

This is HearseRollerz

Watch your top five get rolled up and smoked on

Yeah

This DJ Kozy

It sound like music

It sound like celebration

Sid and Zay

You know what it is

Now we even, nigga