212 by Azealia Banks Lyrics Meaning – Unpacking the Bold Bravado in the Harlem Rapper’s Anthem


You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for Azealia Banks's 212 at Lyrics.org.
Article Contents:
  1. Music Video
  2. Lyrics
  3. Song Meaning

Lyrics

Hey, I can be the answer
I’m ready to dance when the vamp up
And when I hit that dip get your camera
You could see I been that bitch since the Pamper
And that I am that young sis, the beacon
The bitch who wants to compete and
I can freak a fit that pump with the peep and
You know what your bitch become when her weave in
I just wanna sip that punch with your peeps and
Sit in that lunch if you’re treatin’
Kick it with your bitch who come from Parisian
She know where I get mine from, and the season
Now she wanna lick my plum in the evenin’
And fit that ton-tongue d-deep in
I guess that cunt getting eaten
I guess that cunt getting eaten
I guess that cunt getting eaten
I guess that cunt getting eaten
I guess that cunt getting eaten

I was in 212 on the uptown A
Nigga, you know what’s up or don’t you?
Word to who made ya
I’m a rude bitch, nigga, what are you made up of?
I’ma eat your food up boo, I could bust your eight
I’m-a do one too, fuck ya gon do? When you do make bucks
I’m a look right, nigga, bet you do want to fuck
Fuck him like you do want to cum
You’re gay to get discovered in my 21-deuce
Cock-a-lickin’ in the water by the blue bayou
Caught the warm goo in your du-rag too son?
Nigga, you’re a kool-aid dude
Plus your bitch might lick it
Wonder who let you come to 12
With your doo-doo crew, son, fuck are you into, huh?
Niggas better oooh-run-run
You could get shot, homie
If you do want to put your guns up
Tell your crew don’t front
I’m a hoodlum, nigga, you know you were too once
Bitch, I’m ’bout to blew up too
I’m the one today, I’m the new shit boo
Yung Rapunxel
Who are you bitch? New lunch?
I’ma ruin you cunt
I’ma ruin you cunt
I’ma ruin you cunt
I’ma ruin you cunt
I’ma ruin you cunt

Ayo, ayo
I heard you ridin’ with the same tall, (ah) tall
Tale, tall, tellin’ ’em you made some (made some)
Sayin’ you grindin’ but you ain’t goin’ nowhere (nowhere)
Why you procrastinating, girl? (Natin’, girl)
You got a lot, but you just waste all yours and
They’ll forget your name soon (name soon)
And won’t nobody be to blame but yourself, yeah

What you gon’ do when I appear?
W-w-when I premiere?
Bitch, the end of your lives are near
This shit been mine, mine

What you gon’ do when I appear?
W-w-when I premiere?
Bitch, the end of your lives are near
This shit been mine, mine

Bitch, I’m in the 212
With the fif’ cocked, nigga, it’s the 21-zoo
Fuck ya gon’ do when ya goon sprayed up?
Bet his bitch won’t get him
Betcha you won’t do much
See, even if you do want to bust
Your bitch’ll get you cut and touch your crew up too, Pop
You playing with your butter like your boo won’t true
Cock the gun, too, where you do eat pum, hun
I’m fuckin’ with ya cutie q
What’s your dick like, homie? What are you into?
What’s the run, dude? Where do you wake up?
Tell your bitch keep hatin’, I’m the new one two, huh?
See I remember you when you
Were the young new face but you do like to slumber don’t you?
Now your boo up too, hun
I’ma ruin you, cunt

What you gon’ do when I appear? (I’ma ruin you, cunt)
W-w-when I (I’ma ruin you, cunt) premiere?
Bitch, the end of your lives are near
This shit been mine, mine

What you gon’ do when I appear?
W-w-when I premiere?
Bitch, the end of your lives are near
This shit been mine, mine
This shit been mine, mine
This shit been mine, mine

Full Lyrics

Azealia Banks’s ‘212’ is not just a number—it’s a defiant chant; a multifaceted manifesto; a raw, pulsating beat that saw its creator’s name cemented in the minds of music enthusiasts everywhere. Released in 2011, the single became the cornerstone of Banks’s career, a brazen display of her undeniable talent and unique voice in the hip-hop scene. It’s a track that demands attention, beckoning a closer examination of its lyrical depth.

At the surface, ‘212’ could be easily summed up as a homage to Harlem, a showcase of Banks’s rapid-fire rap skills, and a sassy declaration of her sexual confidence. But delve deeper, and one could find a narrative of ambition, identity, and a juggernaut of self-assertion stomping through the traditional norms of the male-dominated music industry.

The Bold Entrance of Azealia Banks: An Unapologetic Arrival

Opening lines in the rap genre often set the trajectory for the entire track, and ‘212’ makes no exception. Banks’s first verse is brimming with confidence and introduces listeners to her as ‘the answer.’ She juxtaposes youthful innocence with assertive adulthood—’that bitch since the Pamper’—implying she’s been poised for fame from the very start. The lyrics entwine clever wordplay with a swaggering demeanor that solidifies her spot in the limelight.

The empowerment in these lines stretches further than just personal accolades. Banks uses her entrance to disrupt the status quo, embracing the flamboyance and aggressive sexuality often reserved for her male counterparts. She stakes her claim not merely in the game but on the terms she dictates—not as a follower but as a trendsetter and pacesetter.

212: More Than a Code, It’s Home Turf in the Lyrics

‘212’ isn’t merely an area code—it’s a symbol of Banks’s Harlem roots and a territorial stamp in her lyrical empire. Within the song’s narrative, ‘212’ is an assertion of origin, both geographically and within the hip-hop industry. Banks asserts a dual dominance over her physical and musical environment, reinforcing this with local slang and cultural references that authenticate her presence.

The notion of space carries with it an intrinsic power—control over one’s turf is control over one’s narrative. Banks wields this power brazenly, challenging any outsiders who seek to invade or co-opt what’s hers. The ‘uptown A’ signifies not just a subway line, but a lineage of Harlem rappers before her that have shaped a rich, cultural tapestry.

Confronting Gender Norms with Each Verse Drop

What sets ‘212’ apart in the hip-hop industry isn’t just its infectious beat or Banks’s unyielding flow; it’s the deliberate reversal of gender norms. She is confrontational in her sexual expressions—equally aggressive and dominant. This role reversal challenges the listener to confront their own biases and expectations regarding gender and sexuality in music.

‘212’ is a gauntlet thrown, a refusal to be objectified or pigeonholed. Banks’s verbiage is assertive, and her explicitness is strategic, intended to usurp the normative script. It’s a reclaiming of agency, and with every self-assured line, she dismantles the traditional male gaze, instead constructing a narrative where she is unquestionably in control.

The Hidden Layers Within ‘212’: A Dismantling of Disguise

Banks peppers ‘212’ with nuance that may elude cursory listeners. Upon deeper analysis, one can uncover layers of social commentary beneath the braggadocio. She alludes to the masking of identities—’cock-a-lickin’ in the water by the blue bayou’—suggesting the facade that artists, and perhaps society at large, put on to navigate their worlds.

But Banks isn’t about upholding appearances; her lyrics insist on authenticity, on exposing what lies beneath and opening dialogue about the hidden struggles and triumphs of an artist. ‘212’ is a mask lifted, revealing the raw challenges of defining oneself in an industry—and world—predicated on pretense and perception.

Memorable Lines: The Lyrical Hooks that Bind ‘212’

Iconic phrases within ‘212’ capture the essence of Banks’s spirit and have imprinted themselves onto the cultural consciousness. Lines like ‘I guess that cunt getting eaten’ not only raised eyebrows for their bold overt sexuality but also reflected Banks’s ability to capture attention, to create shockwaves that ripple through and beyond the music.

Such lines bear repetition, infusing the song with a chant-like quality that provokes a visceral response. It’s a lyrical sequence that doesn’t seek approval but commands respect—and it’s this provocative authenticity that has etched ‘212’ into the annals of modern hip-hop.

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