3am In Del Amo

(album: The Free Album - 2016)

Ya
This some real shit
Look

Look, 3 A.M. in Del Amo, heading down Central
Ro smoking the blunt, I'm smoking these instrumentals
School of hard knocks, my niggas got they credentials
Hot boxing, feel like Inception, I'm stuck in limbo
Faded, scrolling through numbers, looking like, "Where's the box?"
Treat these bitches like reminiscing, we just sharing thots
Half these bitches ain't shit, so fuck it, who after this?
Scared to have a daughter 'cause karma harder than Calculus
3 A.M. in Del Amo, cruising with cloudy vision
Always speak about Pretty, who drove the Honda Civic
This shit I did made it seem like I had it out for you
Wish I could rewind and not do the shit that I'm 'bout to do
'Bout to do, life getting scary 'cause death is getting closer
Three funerals in a month, I should be a heavy smoker
Dope, I hit your girl with a chick, I heard you barely know her
And I don't either, so I won't speak on them daily shoulders
I just know it seemed fishy, had to call it out
Don't know what happened but heard the news and had to fall out
That's why I fuck 'em at the crib or at my doghouse
'Cause any day, some pussy could take your dogs out
Rest in peace, where the streets O-Ds, lately, I keep 'em close like three O-Ts
Holy flow, listen while this G-O-D's sick spitting, sick writtens need D-O-Cs
It's 3 A.M. in Del Amo

Let that shit keep rocking
It's about 4 now

Look, look, it's 4 A.M. in Del Amo, heading down Central
Ro smoking a blunt, I'm smoking these instrumentals
School of hard knocks, my niggas got they credentials
Hot-boxing, feel like Inception, I'm stuck in limbo
Uh oh, really don't give a fuck so
Heard they want that change, this that bunk with a cup flow
Real niggas spitting but beats bumping like stucco
Barely do that trap shit, niggas spitting that wack shit
Rappers sounding like Future but I don't care to name
Everyone mocking, this shit looking like para-games
Got niggas nervous like you at schooling your parents came
Spitting fire nigga, this that "Niggas In Paris" flame
All these niggas talk about, who hotter and shit
I put the music first, fuck the gossip and shit
And I don't need a Grammy, I lost mine as a kid
Wish I could rewind it, and live it, rewind it again
But all these niggas speak about is money, bitches, Bacardi
I'm speaking the truth, the proof is seen hardly
And I'm tryna build these rap tours, no Kyle Lowry
Don't need no menages, sorry, look at what it did to Safari
4 A.M. in D.A

This nigga really knock out and shit
We still moving though

Look, it's 5 A.M. in Del Amo, heading down Central
Pulled up on L.T., I'm still smoking these instrumentals
Memory's Inception, my mind's floating in limbo
Reminiscing back to when everything was so simple, ugh
That's way back when Meech and Kane was let out
So when the big homies was throwing money and sped out
Couple homies bled out, so when I'm talking that shit
It's for my nigga Fonz, locked up, he ain't been out in years
Fuck the hype, boy, I do it for the soul of it
Tell Rock that we do it for the soul of it
Tell Soul that we do it for the soul of it
Wait, I never do it 'cause the hoes love it
Take the streets to my dreams, I hit the roads, fuck it
Gassing that bitch to the flashiest whips is in my nigga grips
Until the tip of my dick is on these bitches lips
I guess I do it for the hoes still
But for the soul, will give a nigga that cold feel
Del Amo nigga, someone tell Soul, I'm still killing these niggas
Naw, I ain't brought no Bas but I'm still realer than niggas
Cutting the haters out the frame, if they ain't getting the picture
And crop my niggas in, Photoshop the subplot to bring my niggas ends
Was in Vegas a while ago, still counting what I spent
Popping bottles for my nigga's twenty-fifth
Hopefully, at twenty-six, we do it bigger and better
Keep it moving and petalling until the money in
Being fake in this game could bring it to an end
Funny how keeping it straight could put you in a Benz
Enough of that, this that grit, grime, hustle rap
This that "my momma stressin'", I done had enough of that
Account low, I've been tryna get the money stacks
Just so I could get it back, filled like a running back
Ya, it's all easy in the end, huh
Well, you look back and see how far you've came
I hold this shit up like diapers with no depends, right
'Cause when you real, circumstances can't cause you to change
Take advantage of shots given like Willy B
Losing friends on the way, not as bad as what it seems
'Cause real relationships always figure a way to surface
Just let it go and never return, it's for a purpose
Hoping you witness your dreams and still love
I still hustle and grind 'till the filler reveals us
As the best niggas do in this shit, I'm killing shit in my sleep
I'm Freddy Kreuger when spitting, the rudest, I'm gifted
I'm twelve twenty-fifths in this, gift wrapped and present spitting
Right on their toes, but fuck it, I'm still ahead of niggas
Killing them bags, this straight gas, the stove running
Every day, I'm doing it for the soul
5 AM in D.A