Put It in the Air
M.O.P. Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

Yo! see'mon, see'mon
It's the M, dot O, dot P, ohh!
M, dot O, dot P, ohh!
M, dot O, dot P
FIYAH! FIYAH!

Now, fill yo' cups up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Lift yo' drinks up and (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Get your hand dapped baby (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
I'm feelin like fuck the world, is you wit me?
Middle fingers up! (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Yeah, middle fingers up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Now, show me the hand you pop that thang with
Index fingers up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)

Bust down, bust any mic you hand to me
I'm Fitzroy nigga (what) First Family
Mo P's, guns mo' bigga
B.K. up in this bitch, what nigga?
(STOMPDASHITOUTU!) Don't mess with I
Just relax yourself pah, you don't want to
Get your Mets hat twisted, gets fo-fifted
Hot blow poppin, get forklifted

I was a fiend, you can ask my home team
Before I fell in love with the 'gnac, I puffed green
Always focused and double toasted
When the shit pop off in the club, we ownzed it
So now, why'all niggaz get down (LAY DOWN)
And stay down (WE RIP POUNDS) and split rounds (OH!)
Spark it (M) dot (O) dot (P) dot
We rock, hip-hop, awkward, stompin

Roll up your trees and (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Puff puff, pass (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Get your hand dapped baby (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
I'm feelin like fuck the world, is you wit me?
Middle fingers up! (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Yeah, middle fingers up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Now, show me the hand you pop that thang with
Index fingers up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)

Fuck why'all, we rude, call dick, in the middle of Times Square
Get down or lay down, bitch boy, this our year
Last summer we jammed, but this summer we hittin
Totin Bernie Macs for all why'all summabiches
In the hood where it's ugly (it's ugly!)
I'm sick with the pen, fuck it just call me Iceberg Charlie
The illest the realest Brownsvillest the shit'll never stop
It's (Brooklyn) home of the hot blocks

You can find me on the back block, e'rybody know me
I'm admired by the homey that's runnin the crack spot
I love to see the shorties with a little G in 'em
It's like lookin in the mirror I see a little me in 'em
Stop buggin, the homey said dig him (I never dug him)
He disrespected this family long enough so I'll slug him




(WARRIORZ!) We earn our respect (SHIT)
Cut through your projects with shiny objects (NOW)

Overall Meaning

The song Put it in the Air by M.O.P. is a classic hip-hop track that encourages the listener to let loose and show their rebellious side. The chorus commands the audience to raise their cups, lift their drinks, and lift their index and middle fingers, showing a defiant attitude towards the world. Busta Rhymes makes an appearance on the track, rapping about his love for the club scene and his appreciation for the thug life.


The first verse is an introduction to the band's identity, with M.O.P. standing for "Mash Out Posse." They proclaim their power by chanting "FIYAH!" repeatedly. They then proceed to rap about their experiences with drugs and alcohol, describing how they were once fiends but how they've moved on to heavier things. The second verse contains more references to their tough, gangster lifestyle, with lines like "In the hood where it's ugly / I'm sick with the pen, fuck it just call me Iceberg Charlie." The song ends with a fiery conclusion that cuts through the listener's ears, leaving them feeling pumped up and ready to tackle the world.


Line by Line Meaning

Yo! see'mon, see'mon
Hey, come on over here!


It's the M, dot O, dot P, ohh!
Let me introduce myself, I am M.O.P.


M, dot O, dot P, ohh!
M.O.P., that's us!


M, dot O, dot P
Just in case you forgot, we're M.O.P.


FIYAH! FIYAH!
We're on fire, we bring the heat!


Now, fill yo' cups up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Let's get ready to party, fill your cups with a drink!


Lift yo' drinks up and (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Cheers to a good time, raise your drinks in the air!


Get your hand dapped baby (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Let's give each other high-fives and keep the energy going!


I'm feelin like fuck the world, is you wit me?
I'm angry at the world, who's with me?


Middle fingers up! (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Let's express our frustration, show your middle finger!


Yeah, middle fingers up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Go ahead, don't hold back, raise those middle fingers up!


Now, show me the hand you pop that thang with
Now let's celebrate, show me the hand you use to take a sip or puff!


Index fingers up (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Bring out those index fingers, let's party!


Bust down, bust any mic you hand to me
I can rap and perform on any stage, any time!


I'm Fitzroy nigga (what) First Family
I am Fitzroy, a member of the First Family group!


Mo P's, guns mo' bigga
M.O.P. has bigger guns than anyone else!


B.K. up in this bitch, what nigga?
We're from Brooklyn, what's up?


(STOMPDASHITOUTU!) Don't mess with I
If you mess with me, I'll stomp you out!


Just relax yourself pah, you don't want to
Calm down and back off, it's not worth it!


Get your Mets hat twisted, gets fo-fifted
If you mess with us, we'll shoot you!


Hot blow poppin, get forklifted
We create chaos and destruction, it's like a forklift going through!


I was a fiend, you can ask my home team
I used to be a drug addict, my friends know it!


Before I fell in love with the 'gnac, I puffed green
Before I drank alcohol, I used to smoke weed!


Always focused and double toasted
I stay sharp and alert, always ready for whatever comes next!


When the shit pop off in the club, we ownzed it
When there's a problem or conflict, we're the ones in control!


So now, why'all niggaz get down (LAY DOWN)
All you other rappers better step down or bow out!


And stay down (WE RIP POUNDS) and split rounds (OH!)
If you don't, we'll attack with heavy artillery and split bullets!


Spark it (M) dot (O) dot (P) dot
Let's get this party started, M.O.P. style!


We rock, hip-hop, awkward, stompin
We create our own unique sound, mixing hip-hop beats with our own awkward, stomping style!


Roll up your trees and (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Let's smoke some weed and enjoy it!


Puff puff, pass (PUT IT IN THE AIR)
Share the love, take a puff and pass it on!


Fuck why'all, we rude, call dick, in the middle of Times Square
We don't care about anyone else, we're brash and impolite, we'll even expose ourselves in public!


Get down or lay down, bitch boy, this our year
You better join us or get out of our way, because we're taking over!


Last summer we jammed, but this summer we hittin
We had a good time last year, but this year we're stepping it up!


Totin Bernie Macs for all why'all summabiches
We're carrying big guns like Bernie Mac did in the movie 'Life', daring anyone else to mess with us!


In the hood where it's ugly (it's ugly!)
We live in a tough, ugly neighborhood!


I'm sick with the pen, fuck it just call me Iceberg Charlie
I'm a talented writer, call me Iceberg Charlie!


The illest the realest Brownsvillest the shit'll never stop
We're the best, most authentic rappers from Brownsville and we'll never stop!


It's (Brooklyn) home of the hot blocks
Brooklyn is where the most dangerous, violent neighborhoods are!


You can find me on the back block, e'rybody know me
I hang out on the most dangerous streets, everyone knows who I am!


I'm admired by the homey that's runnin the crack spot
The drug dealer in charge of the neighborhood likes and respects me!


I love to see the shorties with a little G in 'em
I appreciate young people who have some respect and toughness in them!


It's like lookin in the mirror I see a little me in 'em
I see myself in those young people, it makes me proud!


Stop buggin, the homey said dig him (I never dug him)
Don't bother us, the drug dealer said he's okay with me (but I never liked or trusted him)!


He disrespected this family long enough so I'll slug him
He's been insulting my group for too long, I'm going to hit him!


(WARRIORZ!) We earn our respect (SHIT)
We're warriors, we fight for and earn our respect!


Cut through your projects with shiny objects (NOW)
We'll blast through your housing projects with our weapons, right now!




Lyrics © Spirit Music Group
Written by: ERIC MURRY, JAMAL GRINNAGE, LAWRENCE ELLIOTT, SHAWN CARTER, DARRYL PITTMAN

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on or correct specific content, highlight it

Genre not found
Artist not found
Album not found
Song not found

More Versions