21 Savage is hauling the ghosts of trap’s golden era back to the block on WHAT HAPPENED TO THE STREETS?, his fourth studio album slamming down today via Slaughter Gang/Epic, and HA is that sinister cackle over Zaytoven’s haunted keys, turning stick-up stories into twisted playground chants.
You feel it from the jump—that 300 Blackout menace slicing through the air like a bad memory, Zaytoven’s piano loops dripping with Atlanta gloom while Savage’s deadpan drawl flips violence into a game. It’s vintage trap reloaded: thunderous 808s that rattle your chest, ad-libs (“21, 21”) echoing like distant gunshots, and a flow that’s half menace, half shrug. Thematically, HA’s all about that casual cruelty—the thrill of drawing down for fun, spanking opps like wayward kids, and laughing off the lick when they beg for the bag back.
It’s Savage’s creative north star: no apologies, just the cold math of survival, where trust’s a myth and a quarter-brick’s your ticket to the verse fees. Recorded in piecemeal sessions amid his post-american dream haze, it nods to his Slaughter Gang roots without chasing trends—pure, unfiltered flex on a generation run.
The album? It’s a 14-track autopsy of the streets’ soul, questioning what went soft in the game since his Issa days. Opener “WHERE YOU FROM” sets the interrogation, then it’s a gauntlet: “STEPBROTHERS” with Young Nudy, Latto popping off on “POP IT,” Drake scheming on “MR RECOUP,” GloRilla barking on “DOG $HIT,” G Herbo holding court on “CODE OF HONOR,” Metro Boomin booming “GANG OVER EVERYTHING,” Lil Baby linking on “ATLANTA TEARS,” and Jawan Harris closing “I WISH.” Clocking 45 minutes of feature-fueled fury, it’s Savage reclaiming the narrative—no fluff, just blood oaths and halftime breaths. Announced with a cryptic IG teaser on December 8, it dropped without warning, already topping charts and sparking X debates on who’s really repping the block.
Savage is in full elder-statesman mode at 33, two years past american dream’s reflective flex and that surprise UK citizenship glow-up that had him touring the motherland like a conqueror. The London-born ATL transplant who turned deportation scares into diamond grills has mellowed the rage into razor-wire wisdom—still savage, but stacking narratives like bricks in a wall, proving he’s not just surviving the streets; he’s the one asking what the hell happened to ’em.
Dive into the HA lyrics below and unpack its raw narrative. Don’t miss other WHAT HAPPENED TO THE STREETS? tracks for more of 21 Savage’s cold-blooded street lore.
| Lead Vocals | 21 Savage |
| Songwriter | 21 Savage, Zaytoven & Gucci Mane |
| Music Producer | Zaytoven |
| Distributor | Sony Music Entertainment |
| Label | Slaughter Gang & Epic Records |
| Release Date | December 12, 2025 |
| Song Language | English |
| Copyright © | Slaughter Gang, Epic Records & Sony Music Entertainment |
| Phonographic Copyright ℗ | Slaughter Gang, Epic Records & Sony Music Entertainment |
Lyrics of HA by 21 Savage
[Intro]
(Zaytoven)
Woah
300 Blackout Pistol, Nigga Long (Bitch)
Tryna Touch a B, I’m on a Generation Run (21)
Cutthroat a Nigga, Used to Take Shit for Fun (Facts)
My Mama Always Knew She Had a Badass Son (Yeah)
I’m the Type to Hit a Bitch and Won’t Give Her a Crown (21)
Pass Her Ass the Blunt (Bitch)
Tell Her Hit the Don (Bitch)
Draw Down, Take Your Bricks, Then Walk Off Laughin’ With My Gun (Pussy)
Put ‘Em ‘Cross My Lap and Spank the Opps Like They My Sons (21)
Quarter-Brick of Work, Hit the Gas, They Try to Search (Go)
Four-Four-Two the Hertz, Half a Ticket for a Verse (Woah)
the Diamonds Extra Large (21)
It Make the Bitches Flirt (It Do)
You Ever Try the Squad, We Have You Front Row at a Church (Pussy) [Chorus]
Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha-Ha-Ha (Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah-Woah-Woah (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woo (21, 21)
Tear the Pockets Off a Nigga Jeans (Bitch)
and Your Steppers Ain’t Gon’ Say a Thing
Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha-Ha-Ha (Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah-Woah-Woah (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woo
I Draw Down on Nigga Just for Fun (Pussy)
He Won’t Shoot It, So We Took His Gun [Verse 2]
Brand New Mak-90 With the Scope on It (With the Scope on It)
Fuck What He Claim, We’ll Smoke Homie (Smack His Ass)
Took Him Off, He Tried to Put the Folks on Me (Police Ass)
Nigga, I Can’t Put My Trust in No Woman (Never Ever)
Hollows Burn Your Skin, Now It’s Sores on It (Bitch)
if I Gotta Move, I Put the Bros on It (Bitch)
Them Sixties Be Too Country, Put Some Fours on It (21)
the Spot Jumpin’ Like It Ain’t No Doors on It (21, 21)
Glock 40’ll Leave Your With a Suntan (Pussy)
My Brother Love Finnessing, He a Con Man (Pussy)
Shh Love Killin’, He a Gun Man (21)
Watch Him Shoot the M16, Nigga, With One Hand (21, 21)
When I Go to the Beach, I Don’t Bring Sand (At All)
Stick Put You Asleep Like You Pop Xans (Pussy)
You Sittin’ Around Broke, Nigga, Make a Plan (21)
How the Fuck Is You a Rapper? You Don’t Got One Fan (The Fuck?) [Chorus]
Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha-Ha-Ha (Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah-Woah-Woah (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woo (21, 21)
Tear the Pockets Off a Nigga Jeans (Bitch)
and Your Steppers Ain’t Gon’ Say a Thing
Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha-Ha-Ha (Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah-Woah-Woah (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)
Woah, Woah, Woo
I Draw Down on Nigga Just for Fun (Pussy)
He Won’t Shoot It, So We Took His Gun
[Outro]
One Time I Hit a Lick, and I Didn’t Know How to Act
I Start Laughing When They Asked Me to Bring the Money Back
One Time I Hit a Lick, and I Didn’t Know How to Act
I Start Laughing When They Asked Me to Bring the Money Back, Ha
