Cardi B — The Meaning Behind the Song
Cardi B is a song I made out of respect.
I’m from the Bronx. I’m Dominican. Cardi B is from the Bronx, and she’s Dominican too. She grew up in the neighborhood where me and my crew are from, so watching her rise was something I naturally paid attention to. And I was proud of it.
Not because Cardi B was my main motivation in life. She wasn’t. I’ve had plenty of influences before her. Growing up in the Bronx, people like Big Pun and Fat Joe were already examples of what was possible. There were plenty of other Bronx artists too, including A Boogie and others who came after.
But Cardi was different. She gave me another example of somebody from my environment breaking through—and she was doing it as a woman. That meant something to me.
Dominican Pride — And What Dominican Means to Me
When I say “that’s my people,” I mean that in a very specific way.
I identify myself as Dominican and I identify Dominicans as Black.
That's an important distinction for me because I don't identify Dominican people as Spanish or white simply because we speak Spanish.
We're not Spanish.
We're Dominican.
The Indigenous people of Hispaniola were the Taíno, whose languages belonged to the Arawakan language family. They were Indigenous Caribbean people with their own cultures, societies, languages, and identities long before Spanish colonization.
So when I hear somebody look at a Dominican person and say, “They're Spanish,” because they speak Spanish, I immediately see the problem with that thinking.
Language isn't race. Language isn't nationality. Language is language.
I speak Spanish because I'm Dominican. I speak English because I'm American and I grew up in the Bronx.
That doesn't make me Spanish.
And I don't see Dominican identity as a Spanish race or a white race.
I understand Dominican identity as a Black identity.
Now, when I say Black, I'm not reducing Blackness exclusively to African ancestry. I'm talking about Blackness as an identity that exists across different peoples and histories, including Indigenous peoples and mixed peoples who have been racialized outside of whiteness.
Dominican people have a complicated ancestry. There are Indigenous Taíno roots, African roots, European ancestry, and other influences throughout our history.
But mixture doesn't erase identity.
And European ancestry doesn't automatically make somebody European.
Why People Get Confused Looking at Me
I'm a good example of why these conversations aren't as simple as looking at somebody's skin.
I'm light-skinned.
Depending on how I wear my hair, whether I have my face shaved, or whether I have my heavy beard, people have told me I look Dominican, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, white, Black, or something else entirely.
People sometimes get genuinely surprised when I tell them I'm Black because they think I “look Spanish.”
But what does that actually mean?
I don't look Spanish.
I'm not from Spain.
If somebody used that same logic on an American who speaks English, they could say:
"You speak English, so you're English."
That person would probably say, “No. I'm American.”
Exactly.
So why would speaking Spanish make me Spanish?
It doesn't.
And this is where colorism comes into the conversation.
I've experienced colorism because I'm light-skinned. I've had people question my Black identity because of my appearance. I've met Spanish-speaking people who identify themselves as white because they're lighter-skinned, while treating Blackness as something completely separate from Hispanic or Dominican identity.
That's where I think people need more education.
Black Doesn't Mean Everybody Looks the Same
Black people don't all look the same.
Blackness doesn't come in one shade.
There are dark-skinned Black people. Brown-skinned Black people. Light-skinned Black people. Black people with different hair textures, facial features, cultures, languages, and histories.
And there are Black people from Africa, the Caribbean, the United States, Latin America, and Indigenous communities throughout the world.
So when someone tells me, “You can't be Black because you're Dominican,” I don't accept that premise.
I am Dominican. I am Black. Those identities aren't contradictory to me.
In fact, they're connected.
That's how I understand myself.
Dominican Is Not Spanish
This is also why I'm very particular about the words people use.
Hispanic, Latino, Dominican, Spanish, Black, white, Indigenous, African—these words don't all describe the same category.
Hispanic generally refers to a connection to Spanish language and culture. Latino is a broader regional/cultural identity connected to Latin America. Spanish refers specifically to Spain.
Dominican refers to the Dominican Republic and the people and culture that developed there.
Those things shouldn't just be blended together because somebody hears Spanish.
The Dominican Republic is on Hispaniola, an island with Indigenous, African, European, and other historical influences. Spanish became dominant because of colonization.
That history matters.
The Way I See My Ancestry
I understand that I have mixed ancestry.
I don't deny the European side of Dominican ancestry.
I simply don't identify with it.
I don't look at European ancestry in my DNA and say, “That's who I am.”
My identity is rooted in being Dominican, Black, Bronx-born, and connected to people of color.
I recognize the African and Indigenous foundations of the Caribbean and the complicated history that created the Dominican people.
And I recognize that Blackness existed long before the modern racial categories people argue about today.
That's part of why I reject the idea that Dominican people need to be categorized as Spanish or white.
We're Dominican. We're Black. And we're a people with our own history.
The Underdog
I represent Underdog Music.
So what better example of an underdog than a woman who came into hip-hop from an unconventional background, including working as a stripper, and eventually rose to become one of the biggest entertainers in the world?
That's an underdog story.
You don't have to come from the traditional route. You don't have to have the perfect résumé. You don't have to look like what people expect a successful person to look like.
You can take whatever you have, figure out what you're good at, and turn it into something.
That's what I respect about Cardi.
She's entertaining. She's charismatic. She's outspoken. She's herself. And whether somebody likes her or doesn't like her, you can't deny that she figured out how to turn her personality and abilities into something much bigger.
I respect that.
Money Moves
The chorus says:
“Money I love it / Hundreds and hundreds / Turn nothing to something.”
That's really the energy of the record.
It's not saying money is the only thing that matters in life. But there is something powerful about being able to take nothing and turn it into something.
That's the mentality.
Money. Movement. Progress. Creation.
“Money, money, moves.”
I'm talking about getting to it, building something, enjoying what you've built, and continuing to move forward.
Do What You Like
There's also a message in the song about doing what you like.
If you're good at something and you're not hurting anybody, why shouldn't you be able to pursue it?
Everybody doesn't have to follow the same path. Everybody doesn't have to define success the same way.
If you have a talent, an ability, a personality, or something you're naturally good at, figure out how to make something out of it.
That's another thing I see in Cardi's story.
Juro's Perspective
Then the song becomes more personal to me.
“The world is my oyster / Pisces in the ocean / I'm so wavy when I'm coasting.”
That's me.
I'm talking about money, movement, traveling, enjoying life, smoking, driving, feeling myself, and not being afraid to live.
I'm talking about being outside.
“I do what I like, it's a vibe tonight.”
That's exactly what the record is supposed to feel like.
You're living. You're getting money. You're enjoying yourself. You're doing what you do.
And you're doing it well.
Money and Family
Then I bring it back to something more important:
“Only thing matters is money and family.”
Because money by itself isn't the whole story.
Money is a tool. It gives you freedom. It gives you options. It can help you take care of yourself and the people you love.
But family matters too.
That's the balance.
Why I Made “Cardi B”
Ultimately, Cardi B is my Bronx and Dominican salute to somebody whose rise I watched and respected.
It's about representation.
It's about being from somewhere that people might underestimate.
It's about being a woman in hip-hop and taking an unconventional path.
It's about being Dominican.
It's about being Black.
It's about being from the Bronx.
It's about understanding where I come from and being intentional about what I choose to represent.
I don't represent the colonizer. I don't identify with European identity simply because European ancestry exists somewhere in my bloodline.
I represent my people, my culture, my Blackness, my Dominican roots, the Bronx, and people of color who have had to create something out of circumstances that weren't necessarily designed for them to succeed.
That's the spirit of Underdog Music.
Turn nothing into something.
Get money.
Enjoy life.
Do what you're good at.
And when somebody from your community breaks through, give them their flowers.
Shout out to Cardi B.
Bronx roots. Dominican pride. Black identity. Underdog mentality.
That's the energy behind the record.