Burden - 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, aint 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

Written by:
Kenneth Bartels

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC

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