Santa Monica Blvd

Ayy
Uh-huh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Woah, woah, woah

Now I'm switching up my energy (ayy), fuck my enemies (ayy)
Feel like I got hundreds of 'em (right), no, no, no love from me (woo)
Y'all niggas ain't in the streets (ayy), y'all niggas is industry
Y'all niggas fake ministry (ayy)
Y'all niggas just sin and preach (right)
No deal, I like the breach, I call up my lawyer like, "Nevermind"
They playin' with all of these niggas'
And bitches' money but n-n-n-never mind
Bitch, I could probably never rhyme and still be a million up (up)
I only spend money on her if I know she the truth, just to keep it a buck (right)
You play with me once and you dumped
The shit that I say when I'm drunk
You know I'm ignorant, I'm at my house party actin' belligerent
Tellin' my guests that I don't use to drink and shit
Then turn around and I do it again
Act like a saint, who am I to pretend?
Askin' the Lord to forgive all my sins
But my fingers crossed behind my back with a grin, fuck

I sin, I sin, bitch, I feel like the Bucks
I win, I win, again and again
Again and again, now they tellin' they friends
I don't know who my friends, they like to pretend
(Please leave your name and phone number after the beep)

'Cause they couldn't see me going very far
Now I be overseas with the mob
Bitch, I get paid when I pass a bar
But I got no love for the law
I can't remember when I had a job (ayy, ayy)
Back when they wouldn't build, now they Bob (ayy, ayy)
I still got paper tags on my cars (ayy, ayy)
Now I got gophers fuckin' up my lawn (ayy, ayy)
(Ayy) that shit is annoying
(Ayy) I'm picking my poison
(Ayy) you crabs in the barrel
(Ayy) while my lobster is boiling
(Ayy) I'm tryna avoid 'em
(Ayy) but they keep on comin' for me (where they at?)
(Ayy) DMX what they wantin' from me (in the back)
(Ayy) BMX, I ain't stuntin' for free (never that)
(Ayy) on my mama, my mama deceased (make 'em mad)
(Ayy) so you know that it's truth when I speak (that's a fact)
(Ayy) matador, I ain't runnin' from beef
Mike Tyson, that's why my hunger so deep
I replied, ain't no love in the streets
Also, there wasn't no love in my home
So only get love when it's comin' from me, preach, fuck

I sin, I sin, bitch, I feel like the Bucks
I win, I win, again and again
Again and again, now they tellin' they friends
I don't know who my friends, they like to pretend
Santa Monica Boulevard, I can't tell if they men

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy



Credits
Writer(s): Robert John Richardson, Jacob Atl Jacob Canady, Jason Aaron Mills, Derek Alexander Gamlam
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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