Chords for Reason - 3am in Del Amo

_ _ _ _ Yeah, _ [G] _
some real [F] shit. _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ [G] _ Look, [F] look, 3am in Del Lamo headed down central, [Am] Roast smoking a blunt, I'm [G] smoking these instrumentals.
[F] School of hard knocks, my niggas got they [Am] credentials.
Hot box and feel like Inception, [G] I'm stuck in [F] limbo.
Theta scrolling through numbers looking like where the [Am] box, treat these bitches like [G] reminiscent.
We just [F] sharing thoughts, half these bitches ain't shit so fuck it.
Who after [Am] this, scared to have a daughter cause [G] karma harder than [F] calculus.
3am in Del Lamo cruising with [Am] cloudy vision.
Always speaking about pretty [G] who drove the Honda [F] Civic.
The shit I did made it seem like I had it out for [Am] you.
Wish I could rewind and [G] not do the shit that I'm [F] bout to do, bout to do.
Life getting scary cause death is getting [Am] closer.
Three funerals in a [G] month, I should be a heavy [F] smoker.
Dale got hit chilling with a chick, her he [Am] barely know her.
And I don't either so I won't [G] speak on them deadly [F] shoulders.
I just know it seemed fishy, had to call it out.
[A] Don't know what happened but [G] heard the news and had to [F] fall out.
That's why I fuck them at the crib or at my dog [Am] house.
Cause any day some [G] pussy could take your [F] dogs out.
Rest in peace, but the streets O.D.'s.
Family I keep them close like [G] 3 O.T.'s.
[F] Holy flow nigga listen while there's G.O..D.'s. Six spittin' cigarettes [Em] need D.O [F].C.'s. It's 3am in Del Lamo. _ Let [Am] that shit keep rocking. _ [G] 5-4 [F] now. _ _ _ Look. _ _ _ [G] _ Look. It's 4am in Del Lamo headed down [Am] central. Roll smoking a blunt, I'm [G] smoking these [F] instrumentals. School of hard knocks, my niggas got they credentials. [Am] Hot box and feel like [Bm] Inception, I'm stuck in [F] limbo. Uh oh. Really don't give a fuck so. [B] Heard they want that change, boy this [G] that bump with a cut flow. [F] Real niggas spittin' but beats bumpin' like [Am] sucko. Barely do that trap shit, [G] niggas spittin' that [F] wack shit. Rappin' sounding like Future but I don't care the [Am] name. Everybody mocking this [G] shit, looking like parent [F] games. Got niggas nervous like you in school and your parents came. Spittin' 5 nigga. This that niggas in Paris flame. All these niggas talk about who hotter and shit. I put the music first, [G] fuck the gossip and shit. [F] And I don't need a Grammy, I lost mine as a kid. Wish I could rewind it and live it, [G] rewind it again. [F] But all these rappers speak about his money, bitches, McCarty. [A] Well I'm speaking the truth, the [G] proof is seen hardly. [F] And I'm trying to be on these rap tours. No Kyle Laurie, don't need no Menage a Sorry. [Em] Look what it did to [F] Safari, 4am in DA. _ _ _ [Am] This nigga low knocked out [G] and shit. _ [F] _ _ _ We still moving though. _ _ _ _ Look, it's 5am and Delamo headed down [Am] central. Pulled up on LT, I'm [G] still smoking these [F] instrumentals. Memories of Ception, our minds floating in limbo. [Am] Reminiscing back to when [G] everything was so simple. [F] That's way back when Meach and Kane was [Am] let out. That's when the big homies was throwing [G] money and sped out. [F] Couple homies bled out. So when I'm talking that [Em] shit, it's for my nigga Fonz [G] locked up. He ain't [F] been out in years. Fuck the hype, boy, I do it for the soul of it. Tell Rocket that [G] we do it for the [F] soul of it. Tell Soul that we do it for the [Am] soul of it. Wait, I never [G] do it cause the hoes [F] love it. Take the streets to my dreams. I hit the road, fucking gas in that bitch. [G] To the flashiest [F] whips is in my nigga grip. Until the tip of my dick is on these bitches lips. I guess [G] I do it for the [F] hoes still. But for the soul, we'll give a nigga that [Am] cold feel. Delamo nigga, [G] somebody tell Soul I'm [F] still killing these niggas. Now I ain't brought no [Am] bass, but still realer than niggas. [G] Cut the haters out the [F] frame if they ain't getting the picture. My nigga's in. [A] Photoshop this a plot to bring [G] my nigga's in. [F] Was in Vegas a while ago, still counting what I spent. Popping bottles for my nigga [Em] 25th. Hopefully at [F] 26, we do it bigger and better. Keep it [B] moving and peddle until the money [G] in. Being [F] fake in this game could bring it to an end. Funny how keeping [Am] it straight could put you in a [G] Benz. Enough [F] of that. _ This that grit, grime, hustle rap. [Am] This that my mama stressing. [G] I done had enough of [F] that. Account low. I been trying to get the money [Am] stacks. Just so I can get it [G] back. Feel like a [F] running back. Damn, it's all easy in the end, [Am] huh? When you [G] look back and see how far [F] you came. I hold this shit up like diapers, but no [Am] depends, right? Cuz when you real, [G] circumstances can't cause you to [F] change. Take advantage of shots given like Willie Beans. Losing friends on [G] the way, not as bad as [F] what it seems. Cuz real relationships always figure a way to [B] surface. Just let it go and if [G] it return, it's for [F] a purpose. Hoping that you witness your dreams and still [G] love. I still hustle and grind [Am] till the feeling reveals us. [F] That's the best niggas doing this shit. Been killing shit [G] in my sleep. I'm Freddy Krueger with spit in the root of some gifted. [C] I'm 1225 in this gift wrapping and present spitting right on they toes, but fucking I'm still ahead of niggas killing them bags and straight gas the stove running every [Eb] day. I'm doing it for the soul 5 a.m. And da. _ _ _