Doe Boy delivers an intense portrayal of street life and loyalty in his lyrics, painting a vivid picture of his world. The song captures his experiences navigating the dangerous city streets, armed and ready, alongside a close-knit circle of trusted individuals. He proudly embraces his roots and fearlessly challenges those who portray a façade without true grit. References to iconic figures and cultural nods add depth to his narrative, underscoring his authenticity and confidence. Balancing tales of survival with moments of reflection, Doe Boy emphasizes his resilience and undeterred spirit. It’s a raw depiction of a life where respect and reputation reign supreme, and his confidence is as brash as it is compelling.
3AM IN LA
Lyrics
Gang, you think I'm playin'? (Grrt, bah, bah, bah, bah)
You think I'm playin'? (Bah, bah, bah, bah)
You think I'm playin'? (On that O-Dog shit today, Doe Beezy)
Walkin' through the hood on the block with my glizzy (let's go, rah)
I shoot like O-Dog with that Glock
I get busy (bah, bah, bah, roof, bah, bah, bah, roof, roof)
Posted on the set, knot full of hunnids, not a fifty (let's go)
Catch me hangin' with the Bloods out in LA, who shot Ricky? (Oh, really?)
I'm in Cleveland with my felons, bitch, we terrorize the city (brrat, brrat)
Don't compare me to no rapper
Who ain't never shot his blicky (bah, bah, bah, boom, bah, bah, bah, bah)
Knot full of blues (blues), don't see not a twenty (twenty)
Came in with them tools (tools)
Broski got the semi (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, playin')
Came in with like two sticks, picked the toolkit (grr)
Get that nigga, "Shh," whacked, on my to-do list (pussy)
I was just eatin' jail breaks, now I'm in Ruth Chris's (facts)
Lil' Mike Jack on that goon shit
He really do shit (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, boom, you think I'm playin'?)
Keep one in the head (head), ain't no need to cock it (ain't no need to cock it)
You know damn well I ain't goin', boy, stop it (boom)
Choppa like my baby (yeah), lemme rock-a-bye it (grrah, rah, grrah, rah, rah, rah)
Did a drill, now I feel bad
I gotta put it up for adoption (bah, bah, bah, bah, think I'm playin'?)
Ask 'em, "Who the hottest?" Bet they say me (Doe Beezy)
Shot at them, they ain't shoot back, dammit, they sweet (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, mwah)
Pussy nigga scared of me, it's clear as HD (facts)
Fuck the applause, but these VVS' made me say, "Cheese" (oh, really?)
Walkin' through the hood on the block with my glizzy (grrt)
I shoot like O-Dog with that Glock, I get busy (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah)
Posted on the set, knot full of hunnids, not a fifty (gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
Catch me hangin' with the Bloods out in LA, who shot Ricky? (Oh, really? Grrah)
I'm in Cleveland with my felons, bitch, we terrorize the city (brrt)
Don't compare me to no rapper who ain't never shot his blicky (no, boom)
Knot full of blues (blues), don't see not a twenty (don't see not a twenty)
Came in with them tools (tools), broski got the semi (grrah, rah)
You think I'm playin'?
You think I'm playin'?
Oh, really?
Writer(s): Cotrell Dennard, Jerrick Davis
Copyright(s): Lyrics © ARENA MUSIC PUBLISHING, The Administration MP, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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