KEKE – Song and Lyrics by A Boogie wit da Hoodie

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘KEKE’ by A Boogie wit da Hoodie. 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 Boogie wit da Hoodie or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

(Scum Gang!)

I’ll be on the block on the regular
With my niggas busting at the cops, on the regular
Bitches sucking dick, giving top, on the regular
Catch me water whipping straight drop, on the regular
Yeah you know I run up with the shit on the regular
Bare faced, I’ma hit a lick, on the regular
Posted with the drop, gun cocked, on the regular
Yeah I’m 6ix9ine with the nine, on the regular

Niggas want war yeah, kick the door yeah
Niggas want the sauce, yeah, shake ’em off yeah
I’m still in the hood yeah, bussin’ juggs yeah
Rollin’ through the city, yeah, with my niggas yeah
Niggas want that bitch back, I don’t chit-chat
Run up, hear a click clack, blow your shit back
Baby I ain’t a hot boy, I’ma block boy
Double trigger Glock, make him Diddy Bop boy

Nigga we be busting at the opps, on the regular
Nigga we be ducking from the cops, on the regular
Bitches sucking dick and giving top, on the regular
Shit that’s on my wrist, it cost a lot, it ain’t regular
Nigga if it’s coming from my spot it ain’t regular
Someone’s will is on a different side, it ain’t regular
You can’t take the money when you die, it ain’t regular
Niggas with me really ready to die, on the regular

Pull up to his door yeah, get on the floor yeah
Pull up, we gon’ shoot, don’t check out the score yet
Different colored coupes, shmoney on the floor yeah
They know I got juice, drippin’, drippin’ sauce, yeah
Pull up to his door yeah, get on the floor yeah (yeah)
Pull up, we gon’ shoot, don’t check out the score yet
Different colored coupes, shmoney on the floor yeah
They know I got juice, drippin’, drippin’ sauce, yeah
They know I’ma ball like LaVar (ay)
‘Bout to take a trip to the stars
Let a nigga drip in designer
Ay, makin’ money, flip for the mob

I f*ck it up, I f*ck it up, mmm yeah
Shmegular, that’s regular, mmm yeah
I hit it on the tour bus, oh yeah
If I’m a player, you a slut, ooh yeah
I told my .38 “I love you”
That my baby, when I pull up she pull up, too
See the, Hermes on the buckle ooh, and a
Lotta bag in the duffle, yeah
Leave ’em wetter, let it rain, nigga
Put the thirty to your motherfuckin’ brain nigga, uh
I’m runnin’ ’round with the same niggas
Same niggas that’ll take a nigga chain, nigga