Meaning and Lyrics of Being Poor is Expensive by Bashy

Bashy’s “Being Poor is Expensive” is a socio-political commentary wrapped in lyrical dexterity, dissecting the intricacies of life in London’s rougher areas with surgical precision. The song, while steeped in the grit of street life, resonates universally as it touches on themes of ambition, hardship, and the paradoxes of socioeconomic struggle.

Intro

The intro sets the scene with a simple but effective “Ooh, yeah, Aight, look,” an invitation into Bashy’s world. It’s an unassuming opening, almost conversational, preparing the listener for the narrative journey ahead.

Verse

The verse opens with a philosophical query: “What’s the meaning of life?” and immediately delves into the choice-laden labyrinth of existence, particularly in an environment where options often seem limited to polar extremes: “Get rich or die trying, or live medi’ and die.” This line deftly references 50 Cent’s iconic album, grounding the listener in a landscape where survival and success are perpetually at odds.

Bashy’s lyrical agility shines through as he interweaves heavy themes with cultural allusions. “Naturally, gradually, atrophy, actually / Back where we live, had to dream / Getting outta there, gotta do a mazzalean,” speaks to the slow decay (“atrophy”) of life’s vigor without aspiration (“had to dream”) and the extreme measures considered to escape (“mazzalean,” slang for a daring or significant act).

The line, “Might even have to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ it,” ingeniously ties the survival struggle to Queen’s multifaceted epic. Bashy is hinting at the multiplicities and dramatic shifts one has to navigate, echoing the operatic shifts in Queen’s classic.

The imagery intensifies: “Everybody wanna check you and grab your queen / Get your ches’ bored casually / Done dirty and splash with bleach,” portraying a life where personal betrayals and violent confrontations are mundane. The stark contrasts continue with “Get lead in your head / Escaping unleaded, gargantuan feat,” juxtaposing the literal threat of gun violence (“lead in your head”) with the aspiration to drive luxury cars (“unleaded”).

Bashy traverses the street lexicon with poignant snapshots: “North West is gasolined for a Patek Phillippe / Man’ll jump on you like a trampoline, gotta bounce / Man are starving and have to eat / Got food in your yard and slip, it might be bon appétit,” blending high-stakes materialism with the raw necessity of survival. The allusion to “bon appétit” underpins the precariousness of having possessions in a volatile environment.

The harrowing realities manifest further: “Any day of the week of the year could turn into Halloween / That’s brothers at your door wearing masks and a bag of sweets / And man have got rockets in their pockets, not handkerchiefs,” where Halloween becomes a metaphor for the constant threat of masked violence. The clever twist on “rockets in their pockets” subverts expectations, replacing innocent imagery with the danger of concealed weapons.

Bashy critiques the glamorization of street life: “These brothers rap the streets, but their POV fantasies / I got allergies to them Ali G’s / Wearing ballys chatting greaze / Air to my ears, cah their chatting breeze.” Here, he dismisses the superficial representations of criminality in media, likening them to “Ali G,” an epitome of fake gangsterism.

Personal anecdotes reinforce the narrative: “Used to buy kebabs down at Ali B’s / Then stopped ’cause of manor beefs / ‘Cause Dan going KFC sadly ended in tragedy,” demonstrating how casual routines are disrupted by violent conflicts, often leading to tragic outcomes, anchoring his experiences in relatable landmarks and eateries.

The culinary metaphors extend: “That’s why I go Comptoir and grab a tagine / A barbeque ribs, a shrimp and a mac and cheese / Or stay home, season up food and cook, just a gyal and me / Or go to my aunt’s, grab a soup, a yam and dasheen.” This brings a sense of normalcy amid chaos, emphasizing the value of home-cooked meals and family gatherings as sanctuaries from external tumult.

In the subsequent lines, Bashy navigates the duplicity inherent in relationships: “Brothers like to say it’s all love, that’s a fallacy / They’ll kill where you’re loved in reality, guaranteed / Contempt bred from familiarity,” underscoring the perilous nature of trust in his milieu. He draws a parallel with Michael Mallory, suggesting that, like the fictional detective, he navigates a world where betrayal is a given.

The self-imposed isolation — “That’s why I keep myself to myself / I’m in my shell like a langoustine or a lobster” — symbolizes a protective withdrawal, a metaphorical hardening that Bashy attributes to years of exposure to life’s harshness. This metaphor enriches his narrative, reflecting a guarded interior life beneath a tough exterior.

He invokes the weight of his awareness of fortune and talent: “Knowing I was lucky is weighing heavy on my conscience / ‘Cause where I’m from, there’s many Dan Kaluuyas, many Tosins / Damsons in distress just looking for other options,” suggesting a sense of survivor’s guilt, recognizing the countless others from his background who haven’t found the same success. The mention of notable actors like Daniel Kaluuya and John Boyega roots his message in an emerging Black British cultural renaissance, yet contrasts it with the grim prospects facing those left behind.

The final thought — “Even if you’re not involved, the zones involves ya / And it never stops when you’re older, think it’s over?” — articulates a relentless reality, where the environment’s influence is inescapable and pervasive, extending even as one ages and ostensibly outgrows the street life.

Outro

The outro, with its soulful plea — “Let me down easy / Give me time to get over you, baby / Mind the gap between the train and the platform” — acts as an emotional coda. It juxtaposes the harsh verses with a softer, almost vulnerable request. This evokes the continual struggle to navigate life’s gaps and transitions, both physical and metaphorical.

In conclusion, “Being Poor is Expensive” is a rich tapestry of social commentary, personal reflection, and cultural critique. Bashy’s masterful use of language and metaphor paints a vivid portrait of life’s dichotomies in economically deprived areas, questioning, lamenting, and ultimately illuminating the high cost of poverty. The track stands as a potent testament to the power of storytelling in music, capturing the complexities of lived experience with both poignancy and precision.