Released: 2020
Yo, so when you dive into “Sky” by Playboi Carti, you’ll get hit with this hazy, psychedelic trip through Carti’s high-flying lifestyle. He ain’t just talking ’bout weed smoke—it’s a metaphor for the numbing effect of fame and excess. Carti’s living in a world where reality’s blunted, and emotions are as clouded as the smoke filling the room.
The track kicks off with Carti in a state of disconnection, repeating “I’m so high, man, I can’t even feel shit.” He’s chasing a high so powerful that he’s untouchable, impervious to pain or feelings—it’s a numbness to everything around him. When he talks about having his boy “go roll like ten blunts for me,” he ain’t just setting up for a smoke session—he’s trying to escape from the pressures that weigh him down. It’s that classic move to dull the senses when the world’s too much; it’s about dissolving the stress and the drama that come with the rap game and the fame circus.
As Carti spits, “I could fall out the sky and I still won’t feel nothin’,” it’s a boast about his tolerance, sure, but it’s also a reflection of his isolation. He’s up so high, falling wouldn’t change a thing—he’s that detached. And when he’s saying he’s “way too high,” it’s like he’s floating above all the trivialities of daily existence, unreachable, in a zone where nothing can touch him, for better or worse.
The track shifts as Carti wakes up; it’s “the first of the month,” a notorious nod to getting checks and handling business, the grind. He’s onto the routine—brushing his teeth and counting up—keeping up appearances, stacking dough, the relentless hustle. But even that can’t pierce the fog he’s in; mundane things, even success symbols, are dull in this altered state. And when he says, “I let my bitch roll my blunt,” he’s maintaining that distance, letting others serve his desires, maintaining a barrier between himself and others, wrapped in apathy.
Carti then swerves into a flex about his whips, like the Daytona with “tinted the windows.” He’s untouchable, unseen, moving in stealth while everyone else is transparent. Even though he’s surrounded by folks, like he’s dealing with betrayal or disloyalty—”Can’t fuck with nobody… Not even my shadow”—Carti’s expressing a lack of trust that’s pervasive in his world. It’s a jungle out there, and Carti’s just trying to survive, maybe even alone.
When he brings up his girl, claiming “She a rockstar… She a sex symbol,” he’s not just talking ’bout her looks or swag—she embodies the fame, the attraction, and the destructive elements of celebrity. In “She make it look simple,” he’s likely praising her ability to navigate the chaos with ease—or to seduce effortlessly. This is contrasted abruptly by his blunt admission of his relationship with her: “In love with my money… In love with my pistols.” These lines are raw; Carti’s real trust is in his wealth and his means of protection, giving a cold image of his priorities.
By the time he confesses, “I know she suck dick… I know she not shit,” Carti’s bitterness and disillusion with love is glaring. The fame got to the love, leaving the taste of cynicism. Trust is rare, and loyalty is a foreign concept, despite the intimate involvement they seem to share. The verse becomes even more personal as he contemplates “cuttin’ off” the girl—despite her allure, she doesn’t provide what he needs on a basic level (“she don’t cook, she don’t clean”)—exposing an imbalance in what Carti values versus what he’s experiencing.
The repetition at the end, “I’m way too high… I can’t even feel shit,” brings us full circle. Carti spirals back to that numbing mantra, underlining the cyclical, perhaps inescapable, nature of his high, the numbness, the alienation, the distrust, the decadence. Through it all, “Sky” is a clouded view into Playboi Carti’s world, where realities are warped and the only certainty is the uncertainty of what’s genuine and what’s just another high.
