There’s a certain lineage you can’t fake—and on “Streets,” David Aaron Greenberg doesn’t just reference it, he inhabits it. As one of the last protégés of Allen Ginsberg, his work carries the weight of poetic tradition, but what’s striking here is how effortlessly it mutates into something contemporary, physical, and sonically immersive.
Following the hazy pull of “Chill,” “Streets” sharpens the edges. Built on distorted, bass-heavy production from David Sisko, the track feels immediate and self-assured—less introspective drift, more forward motion. Greenberg’s delivery lands somewhere between spoken word incantation and hip-hop cadence, blurring the line between performance and confession. There’s swagger here, but it’s intellectualized—rooted in rhythm, language, and a deep awareness of form.
What defines Trap Poems—and what “Streets” reinforces—is Greenberg’s ability to translate literary tradition into a modern sonic framework without diluting either side. The DNA of Beat poetry, jazz phrasing, and Nuyorican storytelling runs through the track, but it never feels archival. Instead, it’s alive, urgent, and deliberately positioned within today’s experimental hip-hop landscape.
“Streets” doesn’t ask for attention—it commands it. And in doing so, it further positions Greenberg not just as a bridge between worlds, but as someone actively reshaping them.
