3AM on Glenwood

Woah, I get rid of all the smoke like Ozium Shorty got that real jelly, yeah, petroleum Niggas actin' like my kids, and they be older than him Can't believe they killed Skinny, I really growed up with him I'ma leave a lot of niggas covered in roses for him Spray the witness, I ain't leavin' no Jehovah for them Won a Grammy and I couldn't even show it to him Put my face inside a line-up, niggas know that I'm him Anybody speakin' on my brothers got stepped on Pull up from the three like Stephen And the coupe bald-headed like the other Stephon Put my kids in private school, so they could get they prep on Think my heart made out of Teflon What? What? Think my heart bulletproof You ain't got a mask, I can show you what a hoodie do Pull the string tight 'til your eyelids covered too I think they on the left, roll the window, hit the lights, boom Everybody wish they switched sides when we comin' through Everybody wish they was inside when we comin' through I pray that you ain't on the other side when we comin' through PTSD and I mean it Nigga, Johnny got killed and I seen it I can't fight with these demons Top shotta, nigga, I got gunfire for these demons Hope you know you gotta stand on all that shit you been tweetin' Took some real niggas from me, I could kill the whole world and I still won't be even I be thinkin' 'bout my brothers while I'm shoppin' in Neiman's Real gangster, when I'm gone, carve my name in the cement Watch these hoes when you rich, they play games with the semen Trials and tribulations, I face them Prosecutors probably wanna case him See my opps, I jump out and chase them I ain't Charleston White, nigga, I'll never Mace them Love for all my artists, nigga, I'll never Mase them Shit, that's probably why they hate him Tryna get my brother out of jail, I'm like, "Hey, Kim" Cut from a different cloth, he never let it break him Look at my advance, it make me wonder, would I make them? But I own my masters, so I can't do shit but thank them Video visits, he be smilin' on FaceTime Passionate, I'm talkin' with my hands, these ain't gang signs You don't know Larry, Tayman, or CJ, you ain't one of mine Braids on my neck, nigga, I ain't got no hang time Nigga, I ain't got no kick-it for you I don't wanna make friends I don't wanna make amends I'm chasin' M's Yeah, facts 21