Nightcore by Ken Carson Lyrics Meaning – Unveiling the Bravado and Hedonism in Hip-Hop’s Sonic Landscape


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

Lyrics

Kush smoke in my lungs
Tattoos on my neck and on my arms
I can tell by the way she look, huh-huh, she want some
She ask me what’s my name, and then she ask me where I’m from (yeah)
Bitch, I’m Ken Carson, I’m from Atlanta, I like to pour fours in my Fanta
Ain’t got no time for no bitch, but I fuck on a ho, and I get right to the money after
Ain’t got no time for no bitch, man, I just want some throat, if you don’t do it quick, I’ma cancel
These niggas constipated, and they know I’m the shit, yeah, I need me a Pamper
That boy so dirty, throw it in the hamper
I’m lurkin’ outside your crib, like a camper
I’m lurkin’ outside your crib, if you don’t come outside, then I’ma light this bitch up like a candle
I’m in New York, and I know that these niggas ain’t shooting shit like Julius Randle
If you want smoke, then I’m gettin’ the handle
Shawty keep grabbin’ my dick like a handle

My neck and wrist and ears are Hindu
I don’t fuck with you and I don’t fuck with him too
She want me to be her quarterback, huh, and she my center
You weren’t even worried ’bout that bitch ’til I put my dick in her
I treat these hoes just like a rental
You treat these hoes like a dental
Upside down cross, I’m a sinner
I’m not perfect
I give her all the time in the world and she worth it
So many niggas want my wave, yeah, they surf dick
And then that tsunami came real urgent
It’s just how I talk, baby, I ain’t flirtin’
If I don’t do nothin’, I’ma get them racks for certain
She reachin’ for my dick, I had to close the curtains
All that sneak dissin’ shit, now that boy in a urn
Stop all that hating shit, lil’ nigga, wait your turn
Relax, ’cause when it’s your turn, huh, ain’t no goin’ back
I think it’s my turn to hit your ho from the back
She said she love me, I told that bitch, “I ain’t on that”
It’s Double O gang, it’s Double O gang, yeah, we not a frat
Diamonds on my ring, diamonds on my chain, yeah, VVS
I ain’t talkin’ ’bout DJ Khaled, but, uh, we the best
I charge a hunnid K for my talents, huh, nothin’ less
And I just popped this X, and I can feel it in my chest
I can feel it kickin’ in, whoa, Lionel Messi
She can feel me in her skin, whoa, she gettin’ stretched
I had money way before a blue check
I had money way before this shit
I sing to your bitch like Jodeci
I sing to your bitch, like, whoa
You dropped, and nobody noticed it
I go viral every time I post
I been tourin’ coast to coast
I sip drank every time that I smoke, whoa

Kush smoke in my lungs
Tattoos on my neck and on my arms
I can tell by the way she look, huh-huh, she want some
She ask me what’s my name, and then she ask me where I’m from (yeah)
Bitch, I’m Ken Carson, I’m from Atlanta, I like to pour fours in my Fanta
Ain’t got no time for no bitch, but I fuck on a ho, and I get right to the money after
Ain’t got no time for no bitch, man, I just want some throat, if you don’t do it quick, I’ma cancel
These niggas constipated, and they know I’m the shit, yeah, I need me a Pamper
That boy so dirty, throw it in the hamper
I’m lurkin’ outside your crib, like a camper
I’m lurkin’ outside your crib, if you don’t come outside, then I’ma light this bitch up like a candle
I’m in New York, and I know that these niggas ain’t shooting shit like Julius Randle
If you want smoke, then I’m gettin’ the handle (Neilaworld)
Shawty keep grabbin’ my dick like a handle

Full Lyrics

Ken Carson’s ‘Nightcore’ isn’t just another addition to the pulsing heartbeat of trap music—it’s a visceral dive into the psyche of modern hedonism juxtaposed with the stark realism of street life. ‘Nightcore,’ as a piece, commands attention through a haze of kush smoke and the glint of diamond-studded luxury, all wrapped up in Carson’s unapologetic bravado. The track emerges not only as an anthem for the unattached and unbothered but also an echo of deeper nuances that speak to the tumultuous ride of making one’s mark.

Plucking out the essence of ‘Nightcore’ is akin to dissecting the strokes of a graffiti artist; every line throbs with rebellion and flashes of raw emotion. From the thumping baselines to the vivid storytelling within its bars, Carson paints a picture of the world as he experiences it—unfiltered and engulfed in the fast life—where notoriety, pleasure, and survival intersect in a chaotic symphony.

The Man Behind the Mask: Ken Carson’s Identity Declaration

Opening with ‘Kush smoke in my lungs / Tattoos on my neck and on my arms,’ Carson sets the scene, not only outlining his physical presence but also setting the tone for the narrative to follow. Asserting his identity with ‘Bitch, I’m Ken Carson,’ he makes it clear that he’s a product of Atlanta—a city synonymous with trap music’s rise. The themes of identity and origin are pivotal here as they serve as Carson’s anchor within the track’s tempest.

His declaration is more than a name drop; it’s a battle cry, a stake of ownership within a genre filled with doppelgängers and imitators. In a sea of sameness, his distinct flavor and connection to his roots offer authenticity, and for Ken Carson, that is currency stronger than any material wealth.

A Requiem for Romance: Love’s Bitter Eulogy

Carson’s lyrical journey through ‘Nightcore’ often veers into the realm of romantic encounters, or more precisely, the lack thereof. His repeated line, ‘Ain’t got no time for no bitch,’ is a refrain that echoes the sentiment of emotional detachment. Concubines come and go, but for Carson, affections are reserved—a transactional approach to love that mirrors the fleeting nature of celebrity liaisons.

However, beneath this bravado may lie a more complex landscape. As he raps about discarding lovers like rentals and turning his back on commitment, there’s a latent acknowledgement of the protection it offers—shielding him from vulnerability. The superficiality of these interactions hint at a hidden desire to maintain control, perhaps rooted in an understanding of how easily fame can corrode genuineness.

The Anatomy of a Hustler’s Mantra

‘If I don’t do nothin’, I’ma get them racks for certain’ underscores Carson’s overarching ethic—a relentless pursuit of wealth. In this line, we witness the encapsulation of hustle culture, one where success is measured by financial gain, and stagnation is the cardinal sin. Carson’s narrative thrives on the rush of the grind, the adrenaline-fueled life that comes with the turf of his making.

Even in the cacophony of debauchery, there’s an underlying strategy at play. Ken Carson’s calculated moves and industrious spirit are branded into the DNA of ‘Nightcore.’ Luxuries, diamonds, and contracts are not merely brags; they are the spoils of his labor and the scoreboard of his progression in the high-stakes league of music moguls.

Critical Confessions: The Vivid Marcings of a Sinner

Carson doesn’t shy away from self-characterization as the antithesis of sanctity, readily painting himself as the blemished anti-hero. ‘Upside down cross, I’m a sinner’ isn’t just a provocative image—it’s a testament to his embrace of imperfection and the rejection of moral absolutism. In nightcore’s vein, being flawed isn’t a vice; it’s a narrative of survival and humanity.

As listeners navigate through the thicket of transgressions and self-awareness, we encounter a Ken Carson who understands that the very complexities that make him a ‘sinner’ in conventional eyes are also what render his story compelling and unmistakably real. He doesn’t ask for redemption; there’s resilience in his resolve to stand unrepentant and unabashed in a hall of mirrors reflecting society’s own contradictions.

Echoes and Odes: The Standout Lines That Define an Era

‘I had money way before this shit / I sing to your bitch like Jodeci’—in these bars, Carson puts forth an assertion of longevity and establishes his artistic prowess. The comparison to the R&B sensations of the ’90s is not accidental; it’s a nod to a time when artistry intersected with emotional rawness. Through this looking glass, he wants to be seen as a maestro of his own right—orchestrating his rise without losing grip on his essence.

Ken Carson is aware that the Nightcore’s viral moment stretches beyond just music. It’s a blueprint for reinvention for those coming up in the game, a lesson in how to stay afloat in digital mare maelstroms. As Carson states, ‘I go viral every time I post,’ it’s an acknowledgment of his understanding of influence, a testament to the savvy needed to linger in collective consciousness in a world where trends are ephemeral.

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