Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Macaroni’ 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.
Nigga don’t tell me what you want
Think you calling shots? I make a call, nigga get you gone
Knew that was your girl but she a hoe and her pussy soak
Sound like macaroni in a bowl when she mix it up
Knew I was gon’ put it in song
We ain’t get to f*ck
Think about when you leave her home
Where she really at?
Probably got location on your phone, she know where you at
A lot of niggas hatin’ on the boy
Why you really mad?
Is it cause I’m really putting on where my city at
Highbridge nigga from the Bronx where it be gritty at
I be smoking on gorilla glue and smoking GG pack
They don’t wanna free my nigga Nun but I know he be back
Bitches that I hit up in the DM never hit me back
Now they probably all up in my DM I don’t get to check
I could turn your girl into a demon, boy don’t get me mad
F*ck around and threw out all my singles when I heard it clap
Sound like macaroni in a bowl how she getting wet
When I met her said she was a fuckin’ bartender yeah
Then I saw her dancing on a pole, she a stripper yeah
Macaroni in a bowl, she be mixing, yeah
My nigga don’t tell me what to do
Mel went to school for shooting hoops and then he learned to shoot
Had to lock myself inside the booth, that’s how I kept my cool
Saw my nigga Quado on the news, that’s why I kept my tool
Don’t you try to tell me nothing nigga you don’t know me
Done with this bottle, fill me up I need another Rosé
Got to hit a couple hittas up when I’m by my lonely
I think they already know wassup, I don’t f*ck with phonies
Lately I been running out of time, I need another rollie
Lately I been on the west-side, don’t need no other homies
Diamonds on my pinky finger blinding, all the bitches on me
I look at her and tell her call me, hold up matter fact
Bitches that I hit up in the DM never hit me back
Now they probably all up in my DM I don’t get to check
I could turn your girl into a demon, boy don’t get me mad
F*ck around and threw out all my singles when I heard it clap
Sound like macaroni in a bowl how she getting wet
When I met her said she was a fuckin’ bartender yeah
Then I saw her dancing on a pole, she a stripper yeah
Macaroni in a bowl, she be mixing, yeah
Macaroni in a bowl
The way she mix it up
The way she mix it in a bowl
The way she mix it up
Macaroni in a mix it up