Curse by Bass Santana Lyrics Meaning – Exploring the Depths of Existence Through the Rhymes
Lyrics
To Bass be the glory
My dick go hard, ayy
True facts, ayy ayy
Check my clock, I can’t stop
Fuck around, make my 40 pop
No Popcaan, I pop pistols
Revenge my body, clothing no issue
Makes you look sick, you need a tissue
You drop a body, I just might bless you
I’m at your section, no high cholesterol
Where Jenny Craig? Bitch let’s get sexual
Why the fuck I’d ever lie?
Pussy nigga bet that pistol part of your disguise
I could see it in your eyes
Runnin’ from the reaper, fuck I’m not afraid to die
Bitches creepin’ on my line
Got my main upset, these hos I fucked and left behind
Need at least two at a time
Moved to foreign, took it over, lost my fuckin’ mind
Instigatin’s why I don’t trust these bitches
Two-faced and lame ass nigga
Gangbang for fame fake hitta
I ain’t never seen squad wit’ ya
I don’t need to save ya fuck the fake
Cop myself an ounce and work the weight
Seen the Babylon around the way
Who the fuck they catchin’? Not today
Ridin’ ’round with sinners, flyin’ on a nimbus
Spot a nigga slippin’, hold on, roll down the window
Low-key schemin’, leave his momma screamin’
Curse these demons, lord, curse these demons
Tic them with the fuckin’ tac
Hit ’em where it hurt, nigga make it work
I’ma make her squirt, nigga I do dirt
Nigga I’ma merc, put ’em in the earth
Pay me for the verse, put ’em in a hearse
Gotta finish first, I just did my first
Protect me from my curse
Bitch I put in work, spittin’ with a curse
Wouldn’t be the first, how much is you worth?
Sell you to a merch, I just wanna fuck
I don’t wanna flirt, why your feelings hurt?
Cha cha slide, all in that pussy
How you doin’ love? Let’s go make a movie
Body lookin’ good, when you dress in Gucci
Love the chicken breast, bitin’ on yo’ booty
Ridin’ ’round with sinners, flyin’ on a nimbus
Spot a nigga slippin’, hold on, roll down the window
Low-key schemin’, leave his momma screamin’
Curse these demons, lord, curse these demons
At the crossroads of melody and prose, lies the unfettered voice of modern music – visceral, raw, and oftentimes enigmatic. Bass Santana’s latest track, ‘Curse,’ is a textbook exemplar of this phenomenon. Here, the artist navigates through themes that are as complex as they are captivating, from the mundane to the mystical.
But what lurks beneath the bravado of Santana’s lyrics? To the untrained eye, it might seem like another ode to the hyper-masculinity and hard-knock life that is emblematic of hip-hop culture. Yet, a deeper dive reveals a tapestry rich with symbolism, societal commentary, and an existential plea that echoes through the bravura.
The Seduction of the Streets: A Dance with Danger
Bass Santana’s spoken word is a poetic ballet of the streets, an intricate pas de deux with the darker sides of human experience. The artist’s rhythmic verses collide with hard-hitting truths of what it means to move within this realm – from the pulsating drive for survival to the seductive allure of recklessness.
This notion is vividly illustrated in lines like ‘Ridin’ ’round with sinners, flyin’ on a nimbus,’ where Santana conjures the image of being elevated away from the mortal coil, yet irrevocably intertwined with sinners – signaling a deliberate choice, perhaps, to soar among the damned.
A Lens on Self-Glorification: The Ego’s Reflection
In ‘Curse,’ Bass Santana doesn’t shy away from the spotlight, commanding attention with a confident declaration of his own prowess. The artist’s self-acknowledgement acts as a reflection of the ego, a contemplation on how self-worth is measured and asserted within the microcosm of the narrative.
‘To Bass be the glory,’ he asserts, both a self-coronation and an ironic twist on a religious phrase, elevating his persona above the mundanities while simultaneously hinting at the possibility of spiritual irony.
The Hidden Meaning: Piercing Through Societal Veils
Bass Santana’s ‘Curse’ isn’t just a superficial exhibition; it’s a subtle excavation into the underbelly of society. ‘Seen the Babylon around the way’ reflects on the omnipresence of authoritative structures and the intimate dance of evasion the disenfranchised must play.
The song digs into the nuances of power dynamics, the faces people wear (‘Pussy nigga bet that pistol part of your disguise’), and the ultimate facade that is fame (‘Gangbang for fame fake hitta’). It’s a commentary that understands the dramatis personae of society’s stage play all too well.
In the Throes of Existential Angst: I Ain’t No Sisyphus
Throughout the number, Bass Santana doesn’t just paint a picture; he invites the audience into his world of chaos – a cyclical battle, not unlike that of Sisyphus. ‘Curse these demons, lord, curse these demons,’ he pleads in a refrain that is both a demand and a surrender to a higher power.
The existential angst is palpable as he portrays life in this fraught landscape as a curse, perhaps self-imposed or maybe the product of circumstance – a universal struggle against demons, both external and internal.
Memorable Lines: A Duality in Every Verse
Lines from ‘Curse’ etch themselves into memory, not just for their catchy delivery but for their layered meaning. ‘Protect me from my curse’ serves as both an incantation for personal salvation and a chilling acknowledgement of the immutable grip of one’s own darkness.
And who could ignore the juxtaposition of ‘Cha cha slide, all in that pussy’ – a line that trivializes the transient pleasures amidst a narrative steeped in depth and darkness. It’s this play of duality that cements the song’s hooks deep into the psyche of its listener.
