Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Houston Old Head’ by A$AP Rocky. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of A$AP Rocky or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Smoking rolling reefer up, I adjust the tweakers up
Break it, break it down, break it down so I can beat it up
Where the welcome back? Where the welcome at? My sneaker tough
This is for my old head go on turn your speakers up
Rocky, where you been? I been tryna make my ends meet
So I can cop that Bathing Ape or Jeremy Scott or 10 Deep
Bottles full of Rose, riding in the Benz jeep
Blowing money fast, now I’m finna think I’m Big Meech
I met with my old head we sat for a while
We rolled a couple swishers, we chat for a while
I said I’m just on my grind I come to Houston all the time
He said what’s been goin’ down in your New York state of mind
Fine, there are bad days you feel like givin up
Like how you gon’ eat when this gig is up
When the chips is down and the jig is up
But I don’t give a f*ck, roll another swisher up
Cause I just came here down South so I could get these pounds out
And move my mother nice somewhere closer than a town house
And my beats banging kicking harder than a roundhouse
I spoke with my old head and this is what I found out
Life is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho
Hoes want the money, money come and goes
Friends turn to foes, foes they be fake
If you listen when ya old head talkin’ you’ll be straight
Now my old head old age bald head rogaine
Code red codeine, nose red cocaine
Pimpin’ bitches since lemon chicken shrimp lo mein
Gold chains afros platforms soul train
And he told me ’bout that rapping trapping in the old days
When pop homeboy Shock before that rat tat tat tat nose rings
And I’m so high I could f*ck around and grow wings
And we sipping on something purpler than Soul Plane
We sip slow, slow swing, tip foes and chrome wings
Told me I should head home and do my own thang
Then I heard my phone rang, hold up that’s my old dame
Pick it up I hit you back, miss me and I miss you back
She said Harlem miss you too and they can’t wait to get you back
You should come on home leave the drugs alone and stick to rap
Just don’t come back flossin’ cause that type of shit’ll get you clapped
Life is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho
Hoes want the money, money come and goes
Friends turn to foes, foes they be fake
If you listen when ya old head talkin’ you’ll be straight