Streets Wrote My Name chords by Lil Y

whole song: Gm G C Gm

Gm
Born where the sidewalk cracks and hope gets buried,
G
Where the dreams are too heavy for a kid to carry.
C
Every alley’s a graveyard, every night is a fight,
Gm
I was just a kid, battlin’ shadows of the night.
Gm
We had roaches in the cereal, piss in the halls,
G
Graffiti told our stories on the bricks of the walls.
C
Mama’s cryin’, screamin’ at the landlord’s calls,
Gm
Daddy ghosted long ago, left us to take the falls.

We ate what we could, man, fuck a balanced meal,
Ramen and tap water — that was keepin’ it real.
Shoes full of holes, steppin’ on shattered dreams,
Hustle wasn’t a choice; it was stitched in my seams.
I seen my brother push weight just to pay the fuckin’ rent,
Watched the feds roll through, left the whole block bent.
Cried at his trial while they laughed and they spent,
Our lives ain’t worth shit — just a government expense.
Gunshots sang lullabies every damn night,
Sirens were the soundtrack, blue and red lights.
We played tag in the alleys under shadows that bite,
And the winners didn’t live — they just died with a fight.
Fuck the system, fuck the rules, they never gave us a chance,
We were raised in the gutter, taught to hustle, taught to dance.
But the rhythm of the block ain’t a happy-ass song,
It’s survival of the fittest — where the weak don’t last long.
Trash fires lit the night like a fucked-up dream,
Where the heroes wear masks, but they’re far from clean.
And the streets don’t forget, they don’t care if you scream,
They’ll take your fuckin’ soul, leave you stitched at the seam.

The streets wrote my name, carved it in stone,
Raised by the struggle, yeah, I made it my own.
No love, no mercy, just the grit in my veins,
Every bruise, every scar — just a piece of my pain.

I remember stealin’ bread just to make it through the night,
Sharin’ beds with the rats, dreamin’ under dim lights.
Frostbite on my fingers, couldn’t even fuckin’ write,
But I learned how to fight before I learned what was right.
Fuck the preachers in the churches who just looked away,
They were prayin’ for donations while we starved every day.
The politicians came, but they never fuckin’ stayed,
They just shook a couple hands, left us stuck in the decay.
Needles in the alleys, kids lost to the dope,
Where the fuck was the help? Where the fuck was the hope?
Just a body in the system, hangin’ on by a rope,
But the streets made a killer — now I’m learnin’ to cope.
We had dirt on our clothes, fire in our chest,
A target on our backs, but we fought through the mess.
They said we wouldn’t make it, but we gave it our best,
Now the streets are my story, inked deep in my flesh.

The streets wrote my name, carved it in stone,
Raised by the struggle, yeah, I made it my own.
No love, no mercy, just the grit in my veins,
Every bruise, every scar — just a piece of my pain.

So here’s to the nights when the world turned black,
When the streets gave me nothin’, but I gave it all back.
I don’t hate where I’m from — I just hate what it made,
But the streets wrote my name, and that name won’t fade.