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3AM on Glenwood (By 21 Savage)

Drake

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3AM on Glenwood (By 21 Savage)

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Woah, I get rid of all the smoke like OziumShorty got that real jelly, yeah, petroleumNiggas actin' like my kids and they be older than himCan't believe they killed SkineyI really growed up with himI'ma leave a lot of niggas covered in roses for himSpray the witness, I ain't leavin' no Jehovah for themWon a Grammy and I couldn't even show it to himPut my face inside a line up, niggas know that I'm himAnybody speakin' on my brothers got stepped onPull up from the three like StеphenAnd the coupe bald-hеaded like the other StephonPut my kids in private school so they could get they prep onThink my heart made out of TeflonWhat? What? Think my heart bulletproofYou ain't got a mask, I can show you what a hoodie doPull the string tight 'til your eyelids covered tooI think they on the left, roll the windowhit the lights, boomEverybody wish they switched sides when we comin' throughEverybody wish they was inside when we comin' throughI pray that you ain't on the other sidewhen we comin' throughPTSD and I mean itNigga, Johnny got killed and I seen itI can't fight with these demonsTop shotta, nigga, I got gunfire for these demonsHope you know you gotta stand on allthat shit you been tweetin'Took some real niggas from meI could kill the whole world and I still won't be evenI be thinkin' 'bout my brotherswhile I'm shoppin' in Neiman'sReal gangster, when I'm gone, carve my name in the cementWatch these hoes when you richthey play games with the semenTrials and tribulations, I face themProsecutors probably wanna case himSee my opps, I jump out and chase themI ain't Charleston White, nigga, I'll never Mace themLove for all my artists, nigga, I'll never Mase themShit, that's probably why they hate himTryna get my brother out of jail, I'm like, "Hey, Kim"Cut from a different cloth, he never let it break himLook at my advance, it make me wonder, would I make them?But I own my masters, so I can't do shit but thank themVideo visits, he be smilin' on FaceTimePassionate, I'm talkin' with my handsthese ain't gang signsYou don't know Larry, Tayman, or CJ, you ain't one of mineBraids on my neck, nigga, I ain't got no hang timeNigga, I ain't got no kick-it for youI don't wanna make friendsI don't wanna make amendsI'm chasin' M'sYeah, facts
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