Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Streets Don’t Love You’ 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.
I was there and I ain’t never
Yeah, yeah
I was hurtin’
But I ain’t need you
Streets never, mhm
Streets don’t love you, they’ll turn their back on you
Streets don’t love you, they will turn their back on you
They’ll turn their back on you
Streets don’t love you, they killed Quado
Streets don’t love you, they killed Beasty
Let my niggas come home tomorrow
Don’t just let them see me on TV
Let my niggas up out that you know
You don’t even know how I be thinkin’ that shit crazy
Not my broski, no, not my bros, yeah
Let my niggas come home tomorrow
Free V12, yo
I remember when we was like 12 we went through hell, yo
Back when niggas was gettin’ they Biggies and they Pelles took
Bitches used to curve me, used to swerve me, nigga, now look
They ain’t never want me, now they askin’ to get they nails done
I know I smell like dope, they gassin’ me tellin’ me I smell good
Passin’ me the pussy, I passed it to my homie real quick
Audacity to ask me ’bout the bitches that I still f*ck
The audacity to ask me ’bout the bitches that I still f*ck
Your ass is lookin’ fat, them Fashion Nova jeans look real good
I’m glad that I came up ’cause I ain’t know where I would end up
The 30 clip is on me but the hoodie cover my extendo
And niggas act so tough
But I just swear they don’t wanna start, though
Lemme tell you ’bout this young nigga from the Bronx, though
Everybody want his head but nobody had his heart, though
Robbin’ everybody like he don’t believe in karma
Somebody told the feds what he did, they lined him
Told ’em where that nigga lived, yeah, they really lined him
He still sleepin’ at his crib like f*ck it if they find him
Prices on his head ’cause he hit a opp up
Money on his head got him moving wiser
Hoodie on his head, they wanna paint his poncho
Pulled up to the crib, he living wit’ his moms, though
But they don’t even care, they like, “Hit ’em all up”
His eyes turned red and his fists balled up
Voices in his head sayin’, “Kill them all,” but
Bullets hittin’ glass, goin’ through the walls, oh
All he heard was screamin’, he feel like his time’s up
He ain’t had no time to go reach for a glove
He just grabbed the pump, start squeezin’ at the door
But then he seen his moms laid out on the floor
He dropped down to his knees, head high to the Lord
Ain’t the type to cry, but his mom, he really loved
Tears from his eyes dropped beside of the blood
He wishing it won’t hurt, but he cried ’cause it does
Then he put his own pump right to his mouth (bop)
Like, nah-nah-nah
Yeah, nah-nah
Nah-nah-nah-nah
Nah-nah-nah-nah
No
No-no-no-no-no
No-no
Like, nah-nah-nah-nah
Oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Whoa-oh
Nah-nah-nah-nah
Nah-nah
Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Nah-nah-nah-nah
Yeah