Wide Awake(3 A.M.)

I'ma run it right down to the wire
My time on Earth, is not for hire
I am one, with the spirit of fire, 3

3 A.M, wide awake
I'm not sure what's real, or fake
Is this really the deal that you want to make
Riding the wave, while y'all lost in the wake
It's not morning, when I wake
So I'm not mourning, when I wake
I mean, I'm getting paper, for fuck's sake
Moving leaves, like a rake, rolling up my sleeves
Time to pack it up, like Grieves
The only job I need, is Steve's
That's a big Apple, but these pix-ar fire
I might stretch the truth, in the booth, but I'm not a liar

Soaring higher, to the sound of a celestial choir
I admire my desire, to inspire
I'ma run it right down to the wire
My time on Earth, is not for hire
I am one, with the spirit of fire
Forming the body of water, with the breath of life
All this strife, is a knife, cutting our connection to the ground
Changing the world, with my sound, 3, 3, 3

Honestly, I had to do it, had to prove it to myself
That I've got what it takes, to raise the stakes
I'll choose a face full of cakes, over a face full of fakes
Man is, what he makes, huh

Soaking up these summer days
I've spent them in dumber ways
Laying pipe, in a plumber phase
Lost in the beat, that the drummer plays

3 A.M, wide awake
I'm not sure what's real, or fake
Is this really the deal that you want to make
Riding the wave, while y'all lost in the wake
It's not morning, when I wake
So I'm not mourning, when I wake
I mean, I'm getting paper, for fuck's sake
Moving leaves, like a rake, rolling up my sleeves
Time to pack it up, like Grieves
The only job I need, is Steve's

That's a big Apple, but these pix-ar fire
I might stretch the truth, in the booth, but I'm not a liar
Soaring higher, to the sound of a celestial choir

All this powerful poetry, with profound philosophy
I'm past the ceiling, passing passionate healing, all around
If she's the fox, then I'm the hound, hunting her down
Turning up, chasing the crown, no mixer in the cup
Young buck, I'm no pup, 9 points on the rack
I need a hundred joints, and a pack
Flipping a sack, I'll never lack, huh
I'm always on track, I'm no hack, I'll never crack
Cutting the slack, like I need a plaque
That being said, it'll never get to my head
I was doing this, long before the bread
My blood, isn't even red, it's poetry instead
Turning all this lead, to gold, I've got hatred, in a hold
Feeling confident, and bold, when the story is told

I was on the streets, in the cold
Do you really think, I'll ever fold
Honestly, I went through it, had to do it
To prove it to myself, that I've got what it takes
To raise the stakes, I'll choose a face full of cakes
Over a face full of fakes
Man is, what he makes, huh