In a dirty hotel with the fan on the ceiling
I guess Hova doesn’t stay anywhere without air conditioning nowadays, so a ceiling fan has got to be a sign of a sleazy room perfect for a dirty liaison. I’d happily get busy in the above room without aircon or even a flat screen.
The fan could also refer to one of the “psycho bitches” trying to sneak into Jay’s plans. The fact that fans might be on the ceiling gives the idea of Hova being surrounded by fans and fame all around him.
It also reinforces one of the central themes to not only this song, but this album, which is: What can you do to fuck up the system? When you’re on the outside looking in, as he was during his first 4-5 albums, you attack it to destroy it. You tear down the physical barriers between you and your goals. But what does Jay do now that he’s part of the establishment, or has rarified access to the establishment he’s fought for so long? Well, in this case, you pervert the things rich people care the most about. Jay wants to fuck on a bed of a million dollars in a grimy motel, because it’s a big “fuck you” to anyone who takes their millions too seriously, or wouldn’t dirty or sully their image. The whole time, Jay plays with the concept of money vs. worth. Fine Art is, by and large, especially once you get to some of the more grand works of ours and past generations, of great worth to those who care about it. To some, the idea of a child leaning on a Basquiat is a travesty. To Jay, it’s not a big deal because it’s his daughter, and she’s worth infinitely more to him, even though the painting is something he likely paid millions of dollars to own.
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