Hard Lyrics – Kevin Gates, Mista Cain
Raw, unfiltered, and built from the bottom up — Kevin Gates and Mista Cain don’t perform struggle, they document it. “Hard” hits like a street ledger set to bass: coded language, survival math, and zero apologies for how the rent got paid.
Lyrics of Hard by Kevin Gates, Mista Cain
[Intro: Kevin Gates]
Leave all the talk
I, I used to know his grandmother
I went ’round there to tell her he wouldn’t pull his pants up
His grandmother got the house wide open, she one of them goddamn hustlers too
Baby, I wouldn’t give a damn if he walked outside naked, I wouldn’t give a fu*k
[Chorus: Kevin Gates]
Catch me in the kitchen (Uh-huh), but I ain’t water whipping (Uh-huh)
I’m cleaning off the scales (Uh-huh), but I ain’t talking fishes (Uh-uh)
I said catch me in the kitchen (Uh-huh), but I ain’t water whipping (Uh-uh)
I’m cleaning off the scales (Uh-huh), but I ain’t talking fishes
In the trap going hard, turning soft into hard
N!gga say he want it all, I say let me make a call
Put my life on the line whether dead or in jail
Never subject to tell, affiliated with the mafia for real
[Verse 1: Kevin Gates]
B!tch, I grew up in the bricks, ain’t talking ’bout a unit
My whip a couple bricks, I’m talking ’bout them units
Mathematical slammer, got educated in jail
If your label being greedy, that label subject to fail
On my knees talking to Jesus, I’m having troubled affairs
Screaming BWA, may the shape forever prevail
They say earnings with his charges, the lawyers ain’t playing fair
Spend my budget on recording or get him out of the chair?
And my girl just had my daughter and I ain’t get to be there
But I can’t be like my father who hardly was ever there
If I turn my life around, will my problems leave me alone?
Yelling free my n!gga Lump ’cause you know he finna be home
Red nose, white tail, got a reindeer ringing my phone
Chiefing Keefing, Sweets with Keisha, sativas mixed with Patrón
Your girl a diva, she not even, I’m ’bout to pass her to Folly, Gates
Know it’s got a name, but I don’t know what I could call it, wait
[Chorus: Kevin Gates]
Catch me in the kitchen (Uh-huh), but I ain’t water whipping (Uh-huh)
I’m cleaning off the scales (Uh-huh), but I ain’t talking fishes (Uh-uh)
I said catch me in the kitchen (Uh-huh), but I ain’t water whipping (Uh-uh)
I’m cleaning off the scales (Uh-huh), but I ain’t talking fishes
In the trap going hard, turning soft into hard
N!gga say he want it all, I say let me make a call
Put my life on the line whether dead or in jail
Never subject to tell, affiliated with the mafia for real
[Verse 2: Mista Cain]
I put a fifty inside of a glizzy and told the lil’ youngin go dizzy (Go stupid)
I put an onion inside of the pot and I watched that b!tch turn into liquid, yeah
They had saw one of my cars in the city, they thought I was back up to business (Uh)
I don’t be talking ’bout nothing I did, so they don’t come asking who did it
Project look like The Wire, we had the trap on the fire
12 come hit a n!gga door, we was standing in that b!tch tryna find us somewhere to hide
Folks at the door, let’s go (Yeah, let’s go), put the whole city on lock
Me and T-Hiz going half on a brick, we was fu*king ’round, tryna put something in the pot
Fu*king ’round, tryna put something in the box, yeah, real crack baby, had dope in my sock, yeah
Land up in Cali, but we drove to the valley, we was fu*king ’round, tryna find somewhere to shop (Cain)
Bad b!tch with me, what’s wrong with these n!ggas? N!ggas always talking ’bout something with a thot, yeah
Got Mal by the sink, got G by the stove, n!gga always talking ’bout something with a pot (For real)
[Chorus: Kevin Gates]
Catch me in the kitchen, but I ain’t water whipping
I’m cleaning off the scales, but I ain’t talking fishes
I said catch me in the kitchen, but I ain’t water whipping
I’m cleaning off the scales (Uh-huh), but I ain’t talking fishes
[Verse 3: Kevin Gates]
Flip her, then go’n, I’ll equip her
I hit it with that yeah, make them b!tches think it’s Christmas
I’m thugging like it’s legal, me and my n!gga Mista
You know I tote them pistols, we call them b!tches pistolas
You know that’s “gun” in Spanish, I say I go that coca
We say that cocaina, I laugh like a hyena
My b!tch named her Christina, I’m talking ’bout that cleaner
I ain’t talking ’bout the cleaner when you talking ’bout the cleaners
My n!ggas’ll come and clean you, clock back, watch back, stop that
Hating-ass pu*sy n!ggas, everybody where the top at
See the Porsche Panamera, drop that, everybody gotta cock back
I ain’t talking legs, I’m talking ’bout the spread
Meaning of Hard Lyrics
There’s a specific kind of exhaustion that never announces itself. It just shows up — in the double meanings, the coded language, the way a man talks about the kitchen but means something else entirely. That’s the undercurrent running through “Hard”. Not pride. Not bravado. It’s the quiet, grinding weight of a life where survival and ambition got so tangled together, you stopped asking which one you were serving. Gates doesn’t celebrate the trap — he reports from it, like a correspondent who never got to leave the war.
What stops you cold is this: “Mathematical slammer, got educated in jail.” One can’t help but notice how much is packed into four words. “Mathematical slammer” refuses to be just slang — it frames incarceration as a system, something with logic and rules that can be studied, mastered, turned into advantage. It’s darkly brilliant. Gates isn’t lamenting his education; he’s reframing its institution. The prison becomes the university. That inversion is where the real craft lives — not in the shock value, but in the refusal to be a victim of his own biography.
Mista Cain’s verse shifts the register without breaking the mood. Where Gates philosophizes, Cain narrates — street-level, cinematic, almost procedural. Together, they create something that matters beyond the music itself: a documentation of a generation that had to build its own economics from scratch, outside every system designed to include them. This is why the song lands heavier than its beats suggest. It’s not a flex. It’s a file. A record of what it actually costs to go hard — in every sense of the word.
Hard Song Credits & Production Details
| Song Title | Hard |
| Album | Lost Files – The Collection |
| Singer(s) | Kevin Gates, Mista Cain |
| Musician(s) | Kevin Gates, Mista Cain |
| Lyricist(s) | Kevin Gates, Mista Cain |
| Release Date | May 15, 2026 |
| Label | Run It Up Records |
| Copyright © | Run It Up Records |
| Language | English |
More Lyrics from “Lost Files – The Collection” Album
Lost Files – The Collection
- FWANS
- What It Is
- All I Know
- WGBA
- What He Say
- Timer
- Alone
- Gutta
- Millionaire
- Everywhere
- Fresh
- Hard (Currently Reading)
- Everyday
- Fire
- Cuttin
- Talk Hustle
- I Go
- T-Shirt (Fresh)
Frequently Asked Questions About Hard Song
Who is the singer of the song ‘Hard’?
The song ‘Hard’ is sung by Kevin Gates and Mista Cain.
Who wrote the song ‘Hard’ by Kevin Gates and Mista Cain?
The song ‘Hard’ by Kevin Gates and Mista Cain is written by Kevin Gates and Mista Cain.
Who produced the music for the song ‘Hard’?
Music of the song ‘Hard’ is produced by Kevin Gates and Mista Cain.
When was the song ‘Hard’ officially released?
The song ‘Hard’ is officially released on May 15, 2026, accompanied by its official music video.
What album is the song ‘Hard’ from?
The song ‘Hard’ is from the album titled ‘Lost Files – The Collection’.
Which record label released the song ‘Hard’?
The song ‘Hard’ by Kevin Gates and Mista Cain was released under the record label Run It Up Records.
Who owns the copyright of the song ‘Hard’?
Run It Up Records owns the copyright of the song ‘Hard’.
Disclaimer
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