Bambú - Old Man Raps lyrics

[Verse 1] I'm too old to be geeking off a shot of Patron Fist fighting in the club over a stare ain't grown I put food in the fridge Put clothes on my kid Do the dishes, pay taxes, mop the floor in my crib (Oh wait a minute man) I mean duplex floor I'm too grown to be calling it a crib no more No future in a gang slanging cane is through And I lost real good friends behind the 90s shootings I remember rap battles over beats on improv Now kids kick writtens when they spitting no beat on But don't get the man wrong I log on the grind time And rewind Like catch another Dumbfounded punchline And most kids chalk it up to me being old school But trace it back a decade, graduated from no school Experience taught Bam from opening bell I survived it by myself Old man rap for real I'm just a grumpy old man Haha [Verse 2] No rims on the car, no chain on my neck You popping bottles in the club, I'm half asleep in my bed No designs on my head When I begin sentences It's "Remember when?" Every time I'm out with my friends Throwback jersey? I remember when they played When only one area code could cover all of L.A From that 213 I still say "dope" when I speak Old enough to know its wrong To put out dope in the street Seen brothers I grew up with Who didn't grow up And got stuck sniffing paint Smoking crack in they lungs Or on the end of a gun Kids I would hang with at lunch Is doing numbers in the doubles in the box locked up They shot Ralph in the gut But Wayne ain't have the same luck One lived, one gone Rest in peace Wayne Vaughn Shawn Cole tried to rob an undercover with a toy And took a couple in the chest I think you getting the point right [Verse 3] Old man rap Shaking my head at these kids But I forget that I was them And did the sh** that they did Too old to be out at funerals of my peers Who catch bullets in the hood Man, we up in them years I'm dead serious Bread serious in my life Don't need to spend it on a chain Shiny gold ain't my type I'm a pioneer Of all these Filipinos you hear Got a boost when the Native Guns' music appeared And not to big up my head But yo I know what I'm worth One of the best to ever do it In a Po' club shirt From the block to a school to a juvenile hall To a marine core base Standing, watching the wall To working day job pay To dropping ...Exact Change... From realizing that my work and rap Deserve to get paid Been to Europe, Japan, the Philippines, and beyond No regrets, pour a 40 in my name when I'm gone [Outro] Peace, I'm almost on my way out Paper Cuts And then we gonna move on to the next one and the last one My old a** needs to sit down One more album that's it Post up with my son My son and his Mom Enjoy the rest of my life man I had a good run though I appreciate every single one of y'all Fat Gums, Bambu, DJ Phatrick L.A. stand up