ALASKA by BROCKHAMPTON Lyrics Meaning – Unveiling the Layers of Self-Discovery and Triumph

You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for BROCKHAMPTON's ALASKA at Lyrics.org.

Lyrics

I used to work for people, I made a couple hundred dollars
Wasn’t worth it even, I’m worth a hundred thousand
Not dollars but diamonds, I am mud out the bayou
Rip a page out the Bible, come and crucify me
I’m a long way from home and this ain’t Yellowstone
I trade a white bitch for catfish and yellow bones
This from the catacombs, this for the broken homes
From the south side of cities where my granny home
I moved to California, I bring a Grammy home
I call up bill collectors, “leave my fuckin’ family ‘lone”
We left the corner store on the way to caviar
The coupe is mustard colored, what the fuck is Grey Poupon?

Young K.A., never quit your day job, uh
I bring the love to work, I need the day off, uh
I need the, this hard work should pay off, uh
The lights stay off until my mind is made up, uh
A young Zuckerberg, I wake up and make stuff, uh
These niggas copy us, they really need to pay us, uh
I’m from the city where your neighbors fight back
You talkin’ shit, we bring that work right to your lap
I love my niggas like white people love rap
We make this shit, you’ll probably never say I’m trap again

Walked through doors all my life (just to close them)
Tore down walls all my life (is to the other side)
A whole new life (feeling the brand new feeling, feeling the brand new feeling)
A whole new life (feeling the brand new feeling, feeling the brand new feeling)
A whole new life (new feeling, brand new feeling, brand new feeling)
A whole new life (new feeling, brand new feeling, brand new, brand new, brand new)

(A whole new life) Back then when I was hustling, ain’t get no love from them (uh)
(A whole new life) I paid my own bills and came up with the illest shit (uh)
(A whole new life) I was tryna find a way to get my family out of it (uh)
(A whole new life) Spent my days in basements tryna write a motherfuckin’ hit
Nowadays he’s stumbling, they show such love to him
I shut it down to every show, we set the precedent
I’m just tryna show these niggas, life is on some other shit
Keep your head high, smile when the trouble rumblin’

I don’t do what they say, it’s unorthodox
Like bears sharing porridge, just out with Goldilocks
Like Ozzy with no Sharon, he’d just call his parents
So fuck what I’m doing and fuck these damn critics
You should think for yourself, that shit is cancerous
Get my head rubbed by fingers of fuckin’ hair models
Middle finger, fuck the hair up at all our concerts
Maybe if I cared less, I’d wear a hair net
But now my eyes, ten million by twenty five
Dropped out of Lone Star, booked flight from Lone Star
Was working a couple jobs and quit, became a star, uh

At a first glance, BROCKHAMPTON’s ‘ALASKA’ might seem like a formulaic rap braggadocio, a narrative of escaping humble beginnings for the glitzy peaks of fame. Yet, once the ice of the surface is cracked and peeled away, a poignant tale of personal evolution, cultural identity, and the battle against the odds emerges. ‘ALASKA’, with its multifaceted lyrics and raw delivery, offers much more than a cursory listen.

Navigating through the lyricism of ‘ALASKA’ is akin to embarking on a deeply personal journey through the American Dream’s modern landscape, painted with the nuances of battling normativity, embracing one’s roots, and finding self-worth beyond materialism. BROCKHAMPTON does not merely create a song; they forge an auditory manifesto for self-redefinition.

From Bonds to Grammy Glory – A Reinterpretation of Success

When BROCKHAMPTON articulates ‘Wasn’t worth it even, I’m worth a hundred thousand / Not dollars but diamonds,’ a profound reevaluation of personal value is underway. This is not the pedestrian tale of rags to riches; it is an internal revolution. ‘ALASKA’ speaks to transcending material gains and finding worth in the immutable fortitude of one’s character – a ‘diamond’ forged under pressure.

The journey from modest ‘people work’ to eyeing the Grammy stage becomes a metaphorical trip from the claustrophobia of societal expectations to the ‘brand new feeling’ of uncharted success. It is a reminder that the true measure of accomplishment may not always be the external validation of awards but the internal satisfaction of breaking barriers.

A Cultural Pilgrimage – Homage to Ancestral Strength

BROCKHAMPTON’s ‘ALASKA’ is imbued with references that serve as a nod to their diverse backgrounds. ‘I trade a white bitch for catfish and yellow bones’ can be interpreted as an embrace of black culture over the pursuit of what mainstream America valorizes. In this context, ‘the south side of cities’ and the migration to ‘California’ reflect the physical and metaphorical journey from cultural margins to the epicenters of influence.

Yet, this migration is not a rejection but a reclamation. ‘ALASKA’ celebrates the roots – the ‘broken homes,’ the struggle – turning them into badges of honor rather than symbols of shame. This return to essence serves as a powerful reminder of resilience and the inextricable link between individual triumph and collective history.

The Sincerity of Self-Made Sound – A Rebuke of Industry Parasitism

‘Young K.A., never quit your day job,’ is a line saturated with irony, directly confronting the naysaying voices that often plague emerging artists. It is also a challenge to the industry’s gatekeepers, who capitalize on the creativity of artists without genuine appreciation or support. In ‘ALASKA’, self-authorization trumps the traditional avenues to musical success.

Through lines like ‘These niggas copy us, they really need to pay us,’ BROCKHAMPTON addresses the struggle against cultural appropriation and calls out the lack of originality that often pervades the music industry. The pursuit of genuine artistry is upheld as the ultimate goal, far outstripping the shallow mimicry of trends.

Unearthing the Hidden Anchors of ‘ALASKA’ – The Personal as Political

The heart of ‘ALASKA’ lies in its ability to couple personal narrative with universal truths. While the lyrics can be interpreted as a window into one’s rise to fame, they also tackle larger societal themes such as systemic racism, economic inequality, and the pursuit of the American Dream. The ‘caviar’ dream juxtaposed against the ‘corner store’ reality engages with the chasm between potential and opportunity.

As the line ‘I was tryna find a way to get my family out of it’ reverberates, it undercuts the glamor with a stark reminder of music’s underlying impetus for many: a vehicle for change, an escape from hardship, a platform for voicing the suppressed. ‘ALASKA’ is not just a personal victory lap but an anthem for the oppressed and overlooked.

Memorable Lines as Narrative Cornerstones – The Art of Storytelling in ‘ALASKA’

‘A whole new life’ serves as the song’s refrain, mapping the metamorphosis from despair to purpose. These four words encapsulate the promise of transformation, suggesting that endurance and creativity can construct a reality far removed from the one assigned at birth. The mantra-like repetition opens a space of hope and acts as a battle cry for those in the throes of their metamorphosis.

Notably, ‘I shut it down to every show, we set the precedent,’ encapsulates the boldness of BROCKHAMPTON’s resolve. They are not awaiting external validation; they are setting new standards. The power of the line lies in its raw defiance and ownership of agency. It is a declaration that they are the architects of their story, the pace-setters of their own destinies.