Hustle Blvd

It’s so cold , on this road, hustle blvd
The love is the hustle, the love is the money

The life I live I gotta lay low
-Only grindin for the peso
Fuck I want the fame foe?
-I aim high and then I aim low
Tired of you other rappers tryna kick the same flow
Imitation, ain't that how the game go
Say no
And I don’t put no new faces up on the payroll
I don’t fuck them, Not a little bit and they know
-I knock the pussy out the frame that’s a KO
-gettin head in a drop top, main roads
-blaze dro when the jay rolled
-enemies out to get me that I pray don’t
I was on the jail yard Cakin for the payphone
-some fuck boys wishin I would stay gone
-how you let a pawn kill a king
-how you catch a little charge and you sing
-How the hell you carry all the drama that you bring
Buddy thinkin that he fly almost shot him in the wing, man down
Show a little love now they got they hands out, Never gave a fuck then, still don’t give a fuck now
Knock me down imma get up, Never throwin in the towel
Boy you know what I’m about
I done lost money
I done lost packs
I done lost time fuckin with yall ass
I done fell off
I done bounced back
I ain’t need y’all help We call talk about that, yea

Bitch I made it out , big ass bank account
Hot that paper route
This won’t save the day, this won’t take the pain but
When I hear that 808
I can feel myself fade away, I’m mother fuckin desperado in the sunset boy
Got dollars to make, I’m tryna get pain
Heard em all hatin forgot what they say
I need some privacy, I locked the gates
No more middle manning with 5 in the tank
Now I want bags like I’m robbin a bank
Poppin these zanz I been tryna escape
No S on my chest, so I ride with the K
But I need a M, how much time do it take
Claimin they real when they probably fake
Ain’t even realize when tossin the shade

Snakes in the grass, fire the gardener
I swear to God, never told on my partner
They going hard, that’s why I’m going harder
All of my pictures blowing marijuana
I remember long before some cheddar came, lights off roaches crawling on everything
Out here tryna come up I ain’t never hang
Lot of y’all still there, ain’t never change
I want the money, y’all can keep the fame
I been scopin y’all out and peepin game
The past is gone it’ll never be the same
Came home from prison life was rearranged
Never had no guidance
Only seen violence
Fire beside me, when I close my eyelids
Feel like they stalkin but they better not try it
Catching me lackin little buddy , you Wilin
-What the fuck happened when homie was rappin and broke bruh
Somebody grabbin that smoke DUHH
Somebody sour
I got that money power
I do not fuck with no powder
I don’t get paid by the hour
Designer name of my trousers
-and who the fuck weed you think louder?
Yea
We ain’t come in here to lose
Bitches always choose
Get it, on the move
Snitchin on the crew
Put him on the news
What you down to do
In the livin room
Kill him kill the wound

Bitch I made it out , big ass bank account
Hot that paper route
This won’t save the day, this won’t take the pain but
When I hear that 808
I can feel myself fade away, I’m mother fuckin desperado in the sunset boy
Got dollars to make, I’m tryna get pain
Heard em all hatin forgot what they say
I need some privacy, I locked the gates
No more middle manning with 5 in the tank
Now I want bags like I’m robbin a bank
Poppin these zanz I been tryna escape
No S on my chest, so I ride with the K
But I need a M, how much time do it take
Claimin they real when they probably fake

I roll up, I pour up, I know what, I know what

It’s so cold, on this road, hustle blvd