The Hurt ft. Mr. Len
Jean Grae Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

Bank on the best
Who drop it like an Acme anvil-lain
Freeze your chest to leave you breathing ill
How about Jean and a fifth of Nyquil in ya
Grilling my perimeter
Niggas exposed, see who pulls and falls, I ain't feeling ya
Told y'all, I'm proof two-oh-oh
Hotter than the diaphragms of twenty bitches backstage with chlamydia
Snot-nosed punks, I'm that deranged chick
No Range, no whip -- same for all the niggas I hang with
I'm a pen-holding, gold-rocking, 40-swigging nigga
Figure me out, maneuver me, sue me for getting into ya
Sting like another word for the cops
Zen master, classes held on the wax
Your homework is playback
Pro-black and anti-bitch, anti-snitch
Mic cords is whips, trains is fours, fives, and sixes
And no Benz and fuck friends, I'll be the last chick standing
Wait, nah, fuck that -- bring at least one man in

[Chorus]
Say what, nigga?
Speak up, I can't hear you
Look me in my eyes if you feel that I should see you
Still drunk from last night
Buzzing off my last fight
What if I turned around and quickly whipped your ass?
I'd be right

Jean, bench-press strength is a million and five strong
No henchmen, yes-niggas to survive on
Investment figures is little to ride on
No nine-to-five, a nine to get live on
Live onstage like a Shante Roxanne
With men and some rock band
Mosh pits, cocks, and hands
I'm a mic addict, type dramatical life
High gramatical status
Non-compatible, non grata
No Prada, no baby father
Out of place like Road Rules insider
Won't spill bottles of vodka
I'm prejudiced, bastard
Rule, kill you with tender service
Eat the food and pass gas in your closed casket
I'll get my ass kicked and talk shit while it's happening
Heard shots, run to the side that niggas clapped in
I been punk, been drunk, been drugged but fuck it
Now I fight back
You could pull the vinyl from your backpack
(Oh right, that's your gat; oh right, I forgot)

[Chorus]

My type is wrong, weight is thick
Height depends if I've been stumbling all night long
Write for songs like I'm hyped to hold the mic for throngs
Gather round, rip down stages
Just to prove points
Made minimum wages for joints
And still blaze your boys
Stay poised when I'm flipping on your toy bullshit
No chips, just shit in your face
Hate your moms, take your arms
Make you watch all the rape scenes from Oz
Round of applause when you bound to fall and get tossed
Your high-floss, high gloss and mega high beams
Strange it seems, your daylight still ain't seeing me




New York representative, I told you before
And the only way I like it is raw, no pause

Overall Meaning

In "The Hurt" by Jean Grae, the rapper unapologetically asserts her dominance in the rap game and pulls no punches as she calls out those who try to step in her way. She brags about her skill with words, her strength, and her respective crew, and expresses her disdain for anyone who tries to cross her. In the first verse, she describes herself as "hotter than the diaphragms of twenty bitches backstage with chlamydia," effectively suggesting that she is so powerful that she can outdo even those who are portrayed as highly sexualized women. She emphasizes her no-nonsense attitude and disdain for those she sees as weak in lines like "No Range, no whip -- same for all the niggas I hang with," implying that she surrounds herself with only the toughest people in order to stay on top.


Line by Line Meaning

Bank on the best
Trust in the best


Who drop it like an Acme anvil-lain
Who drop it heavily like an Acme anvil-lain


Freeze your chest to leave you breathing ill
Cause you to feel sick with fear


How about Jean and a fifth of Nyquil in ya
How about Jean and a bottle of Nyquil – which causes drowsiness – making you feel sleepy


Grilling my perimeter
Watching my surroundings carefully


Niggas exposed, see who pulls and falls, I ain't feeling ya
People revealed themselves and I'm not impressed by those who turned out to be weak


Told y'all, I'm proof two-oh-oh
I already told you that I am 200 proof, meaning that I am pure and strong


Hotter than the diaphragms of twenty bitches backstage with chlamydia
More attractive and talented than the 20 women with STDs in the backstage


Snot-nosed punks, I'm that deranged chick
I'm that crazy woman who doesn't tolerate disrespectful youngsters


No Range, no whip -- same for all the niggas I hang with
I don't drive luxury cars, and neither do the people I usually hang out with


I'm a pen-holding, gold-rocking, 40-swigging nigga
I am an MC who holds a pen, wears gold, and drinks 40 oz. bottles of malt liquor


Figure me out, maneuver me, sue me for getting into ya
Try to figure out my personality, interact with me, sue me for getting too close


Sting like another word for the cops
The way I rap and write lyrics is intense, like the way cops can be intimidating


Zen master, classes held on the wax
Master of relaxation; performing rap songs on vinyl records


Your homework is playback
Your task is to listen to my recorded tracks


Pro-black and anti-bitch, anti-snitch
I'm in favor of the black community and against women who behave poorly and people who inform the police


Mic cords is whips, trains is fours, fives, and sixes
Microphone cables are so strong like whips, and the subway trains I take are numbered 4, 5, and 6


And no Benz and fuck friends, I'll be the last chick standing
I'm not interested in driving a Mercedes-Benz and I don't care about friendship; I just want to be the last woman standing


Wait, nah, fuck that -- bring at least one man in
Wait, no, forget that – let at least one man join me


[Chorus]
Refrain


Say what, nigga?
What did you say?


Speak up, I can't hear you
Talk louder, I can't hear what you're saying


Look me in my eyes if you feel that I should see you
Make an eye contact with me if you want me to notice you


Still drunk from last night
I'm still drunk from the previous night


Buzzing off my last fight
I'm still excited because of my recent fight


What if I turned around and quickly whipped your ass?
What if I suddenly attacked and defeated you?


I'd be right
I'd be correct in my actions


Jean, bench-press strength is a million and five strong
My physical prowess is equivalent to bench-pressing over one million pounds


No henchmen, yes-niggas to survive on
I don't have underlings to rely on, just friends who support me


Investment figures is little to ride on
I don't have a lot of money to invest


No nine-to-five, a nine to get live on
I don't have a regular job; I rap to generate income


Live onstage like a Shante Roxanne
I perform live concerts like MC Roxanne Shante


With men and some rock band
With male musicians and a rock band


Mosh pits, cocks, and hands
Wild crowd situations with pushing, shouting, and raised hands


I'm a mic addict, type dramatical life
I am addicted to the microphone and live a dramatic life


High gramatical status
Having excellent grammar skills


Non-compatible, non grata
Not able to coexist, not welcomed


No Prada, no baby father
I don't wear fancy clothing brands or have children


Out of place like Road Rules insider
Feeling out of place, much like an outsider in the MTV show Road Rules


Won't spill bottles of vodka
I won't waste a bottle of vodka


I'm prejudiced, bastard
I have biases and prejudices, but you can call me that word if you want


Rule, kill you with tender service
I am a compassionate ruler who can even kill you kindly if I want


Eat the food and pass gas in your closed casket
I will eat food at your funeral service and break wind near your coffin


I'll get my ass kicked and talk shit while it's happening
If someone beats me up, I will still insult them while it happens


Heard shots, run to the side that niggas clapped in
Heard gunshots, will run to where the other people are shooting


I been punk, been drunk, been drugged but fuck it
I've been humiliated, drunk, and high, but I don't care


Now I fight back
I am ready to fight back


You could pull the vinyl from your backpack
You probably have some vinyl records in your backpack


(Oh right, that's your gat; oh right, I forgot)
(Oh yeah, that's your gun; oh yeah, I forgot)


[Chorus]
Refrain


My type is wrong, weight is thick
I am not the ideal type of person; I am overweight


Height depends if I've been stumbling all night long
My height appears to change if I have been drinking and walking all night long


Write for songs like I'm hyped to hold the mic for throngs
Compose music as if I am thrilled to perform in front of a large crowd


Gather round, rip down stages
Make an audience surround the stage and perform energetically


Just to prove points
Perform in a way that proves my talent or worth


Made minimum wages for joints
Earned low wages for performing rap songs


And still blaze your boys
And still smoke marijuana with your male acquaintances


Stay poised when I'm flipping on your toy bullshit
Stay composed when I am criticizing or attacking your insignificant actions


No chips, just shit in your face
I don't bring happiness or benefits, I just bring discomfort and problems


Hate your moms, take your arms
I am violent towards your mother and will physically harm you


Make you watch all the rape scenes from Oz
Make you watch all the rape scenes from the TV show Oz


Round of applause when you bound to fall and get tossed
People will applaud when you eventually fail and get kicked out


Your high-floss, high gloss and mega high beams
Your fancy clothes, glossy appearance, and bright headlights


Strange it seems, your daylight still ain't seeing me
It's bizarre that you still can't see me even though it's daytime


New York representative, I told you before
I am a representative of New York and I've said that before


And the only way I like it is raw, no pause
And I only like raw or unprocessed things, without any pausing or stopping




Lyrics Β© OBO APRA/AMCOS

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Comments from YouTube:

@BRR949

I haven't heard this song in many years, this is what first introduced me to Jean Grae in the first place. "The Hurt" was on a compilation CD that a record label sent me, back when they still had mail order catalogs. This is a jam.

@brandimcdonald5481

My Queen Jeany Greasy.πŸ‘‘πŸ™ŒπŸ½

@yowspisaac6113

πŸ€ŸπŸΏπŸ”Š

@blankspace282

4 comments are not sufficient to defend the legacy of one of my favorite songs of all time

@NanMoney

"Shut up GIRL!" Lmao awesome

@Gomezgani__

Shit still slaps πŸ”₯πŸ”₯πŸ”₯

@martinridgway3062

Wack emcees are still feeling it from when It first dropped...

@3dfznr831

Still πŸ’£πŸ’£πŸ’£

@fabmaster1153

2.5k views? Underrated af

@xelefonte

the artwork for this video is like 0.1 pixels at best

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