Air
Water Music Suite No.1 Lyrics
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Niggas scary, they don't pull up (rah, it's BKay)
Them dudes only slide round rarely
And shoot at the sky, we gotta look up (Ghosty)
Bitches like, "Do you follow back on the 'Gram?"
Bitch, barely, I'm stuck up
Sayin' I've changed 'cause I got a bit of money
Bitch, shut the fuck up (bitch)
I don't do hookups (haha)
Me and bro in the kitchen, Pyrex whippin', cook up
He said, "Put the fire on the low" but I put it on high
Mi did fuck up
Lock off (boi-yoi)
Before I knew about Air BnB
I was at the reception in Premier Inn (OT)
Well, nah, if the gyal that I'm with's got ID
I'm more time sendin' her in (woosh)
Blue plastic bag full of munchies
Couple brown Rizzlas, scale and cling (chop-chop)
Turn room 106 to a bando
Head down at the desk when man's checkin' in (lagga)
And it's approachin' twelve
One-legged Sam gets disability allowance (wha'?)
No deals after midnight
Can make five bills by one if I link him and Howard (huh?)
Has your phone ever rang all day?
Go in the bathroom and it rings in the shower (brr)
Two missed calls from a phone box
Ain't had a sale in twenty-two hours
Must have been bored if you've ever seen heads out
Me I bring the Louis V store to the penthouse
I was angry when shh got cheffed down
Left them in the corner shop by the food stretched out
T house didn't do textiles, I sent text out
She didn't wanna know me way back when
But now she cooks me breakfast with her breast out (One)
Summer time with the football boots
No shin pads or socks, all the legs out
Now feds at the scene, they're askin' questions
Like what's all the mess 'bout?
Seven pebs that I gave to Fiona for the bando to get rent out (One)
I was posted in alley to the trenches
Now I go uptown to bring the whole trench out
I just need to get a parkin' permit
Cheeks my parcel, then I'm in the town center (skrrt)
Who's that with the big issue magazine?
Leanin' like he just come off a bender
My favorite time of the year in the trap game
Is the last week in December (why?)
'Cah everyone goes back for Christmas
I just stay trappin' 'til the new year enter
This deuce holds seven, this trey holds five
And this .9 holds ten plus like six more
I left my phone cranked, got bare missed calls
Now my manager's pissed, thought I was in court
I can't speak on what happened last time
It's a in-house ting, man might get upset
I rent a room in this bando premises
Landlord don't know the cats dem sublet
You ever have to hop that window bank in the garden?
That's multitaskin'
Feds at the door, I'm on my second strike
So you know I'm goin' straight to the can like sardines (free up)
New spot, I'm tryna make it right
It can all go left in a heartbeat (ah)
I still got my jogger bottoms filled up with twenties
And my rack filled up with Charlie
It's nothin' but smoke that we got for them
Must have run up a thirty in Scottish Glens
That's 'til he seen me in the Daily Mail
And he went and called me by my government
My youngboy try go up for a week
Now they got him in a monkey stretch
Took the grub Aberdeen, so we could charge twelve for a Z
Ask Fletch
I ain't waitin' in town for the drop
Or payin' five bills to these new resellers
But if you got a size 9 in stock
Man will cop and shop with these new plate tenners (hmm)
Two-fifth for these Jordan 1s
And a .44 long in this Gucci sweater (One)
Badman, she likes when I undress her
And put my machine on her makeup dresser
I gotta glove up when I touch that presser
Bro said he can't mix money and violence
Because that just make your name too pepper
Flip me a likkles and brown, not brandy (One, One)
Get me a shotgun that's lanky
You know me, I just get too angry
And fill the ding-dong with the two-two gennas
Where I'm from, it's scary
Niggas scary, they don't pull up
Them dudes only slide round rarely
And shoot at the sky, we gotta look up
Bitches like, "Do you follow back on the 'Gram?"
Bitch, barely, I'm stuck up
Sayin' I've changed cause I got a bit of money
Bitch, shut the fuck up (Ghosty)
I'm a young black king that knows his worth
I don't do hookups
Me and bro in the kitchen, Pyrex whippin', cook up (rah, it's BKay, unah)
He said, "Put the fire on the low" but I put it on high
Mi did fuck up
Lock off
"Air" by Water Music Suite No. 1 features a juxtaposition of lyrics as it talks about the realities of living in a scary neighborhood and the singer's desire for material success in life. The opening lines talk about how violence and fear are prevalent in the community, and the people who cause it do not face consequences as they shoot in the sky. The singer then shifts to talking about how he does not engage in hookups and is a young king who knows his worth.
As the song progresses, the lyrics describe the singer's experiences living in a trap house where he sells drugs to make a living. The lyrics also touch on how he has to hide his illegal activities from the landlord and tries to work discreetly while coping with the intense paranoia from law enforcement officials. The song also talks about how the people in the singer's life have changed and now want to be part of his success, such as the girl who asked if he follows back on Instagram, despite rejecting him in the past. Lastly, the song ends with the singer's confession that he too messes up or "fuck[s] up" like everyone else, despite his facade of confidence and cockiness.
Line by Line Meaning
Where I'm from, it's scary
I come from a dangerous place
Niggas scary, they don't pull up
People are afraid and hesitant to take action
Them dudes only slide round rarely
They seldom engage in risky activities
And shoot at the sky, we gotta look up
When they do shoot, they aim upward
Bitches like, 'Do you follow back on the 'Gram?'
Girls ask if I follow them on Instagram
Bitch, barely, I'm stuck up
I rarely follow back, I have an attitude
Sayin' I've changed 'cause I got a bit of money
Accusing me of being different now that I have some wealth
Bitch, shut the fuck up
Stop talking nonsense
I'm a young black king that knows his worth
I am a confident, self-aware young black man
I don't do hookups
I don't engage in casual sexual encounters
Me and bro in the kitchen, Pyrex whippin', cook up
My friend and I are cooking drugs in the kitchen
He said, 'Put the fire on the low' but I put it on high
He wanted me to lower the heat, but I increased it
Mi did fuck up
I made a mistake
Lock off
End the activity
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Bradley Moss, Bryan Tshibangu Kabengele, Miguel Cunningham
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind