Song Meaning

This track paints a grim picture of street conflict, where violence is tallied like a scoreboard. The opening lines immediately establish a tone of brutal finality, referencing an "exit wound" and a past where "old school used to cheff till my kitchen bent." The lyrics then launch into a series of accounts, each detailing a specific incident where individuals are harmed or killed, often using violent slang like "hit with the steel," "got cooked," and "got dipped." The recurring motif of "points one-nill" and the year-long wait for retaliation underscore a cycle of violence where scores are kept and grudges persist. It’s a stark, almost detached enumeration of harm, highlighting the grim reality of these encounters. The central tension in the lyrics lies in the chilling normalization of extreme violence and the constant threat of retribution. The narrators recount violent acts with a matter-of-fact delivery, detailing injuries and fatalities as if they were mere statistics. Phrases like "he got a shitbag I don't know how he feels" reveal a profound lack of empathy, while the boasts of "chopped him, man I did it with skill" and "full clip tryna leave on empty" emphasize a cold, calculated approach to conflict. This desensitization creates a disturbing atmosphere, where life and death are reduced to a game of territorial dominance and revenge. A particularly striking aspect of the craft is the use of sports and gaming metaphors to describe violent outcomes. The "points one-nill" score, being "sent off the field," and "losing Kane the same as Spurs" all frame violent encounters within familiar competitive structures. This juxtaposition of brutal reality with playful, almost casual, analogies serves to further underscore the warped perspective of the narrators. It’s as if the gravity of their actions is so profound that it can only be processed through the lens of a game, making the violence even more unsettling. Ultimately, the effectiveness of these lyrics stems from their unflinching, almost journalistic, depiction of a violent subculture. The specific, often brutal, imagery and the detached tone create a visceral impact, forcing the listener to confront the harsh realities being described. The use of slang and coded language, while potentially alienating to some, grounds the narrative in a specific context, making the accounts feel raw and immediate. It’s this unflinching portrayal, coupled with the unsettling metaphors, that makes the track resonate as a stark commentary on a cycle of violence.

Mischief & DT (UK) & G41 (UK) - Rap, Drill

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[Intro: G41 & Mischief] But he got an exit wound in his Old school used to cheff till my kitchen bent Mad, step don't go outside, left footprints on Lambeth's map [Verse 1: DT] Worm died, now the points one-nill He got hit with the steel, and it's been a whole year they ain't got back still (Back still) LB got his light skin peeled, and his mum got wet, she got used for shield (Shield) That's horrid, like porridge PJ got cooked, ate corn for his meal, he got a shitbag I don't know how he feels (I don't know) He got shot, now he's taking pills Chopped him, man I did it with skill Kipz got dipped, got hit by the wheel, get caught offside and get sent off the field He got smoked in his lungs but the man didn't die, I thought smoking kills (Ow) Five got fried like the flame on the grill, don't step to the Hill like you're Jack and Jill (No) [Verse 2: G41] One must have hit his head, what's his talk 'bout the corn was dead? They ain't spill no blood on the Hillside, do you forget you shot a bitch instead? Dilz got pinged in the chest, but he got exit wounds in his head Kipz got his K2 top left red, Lil Shaq got bun, tucked him in his bed I wouldn't wanna be like them, every year doing suits and ties, that's stress My man had a close casket, his face it's still on the 'Raq that's ments Trex got stretched, airlift gang, go ask, we don't wet man's leg Still putting waps on peds, stick to the Top Swear Rabbit should have got in his egg [Verse 3: Mischief] Making songs talking 'bout who's next, ments That day weren't last to get packed In Town like EST, two waps, everything Get Back get whacked Mad, step don't go out sad, left footprints around Lambeth's map Full clip tryna leave on empty, who's that there? Bro, spin that back Tryna put some nerds on shirts, do drills but I did drill first (I dit) Done nun', still leave him stretchered, consequence of claiming works Straight drop, got caught by car, but I'm third, losing Kane the same as Spurs Step for an M but I got an attempt, go tell my man to thank the nurse [Verse 4: DT] Give him more than a ten like Nike, just do it, car or bike Metal on the ride like Optimus Prime, and Solomon died so he rocks with the time Konez got fried but he didn't get high Perm flew like a kite, now he's stuck in the sky Two hands on the 12, no need for the time Shout the guys from the 6, but we got down five [Verse 5: Mischief] Talk bricks and blicks, I'mma grab them all, let me know the price Only right I'm buying hammers, treat my gunner like Declan Rice You ever seen a villain need savin' Broadday drills and wait for night On the Hill's like hide your Lauren, pattern You already know man's live [Verse 6: G41] Backdoor buss, better use them legs On the Drive, two sticks try ping man's head We don't brandish waps on cars, you ever get close and click instead Old school used to cheff till my kitchen bent Ask KB how much times got my kitchen wet P done got X'd, crossed off the map and kicked out the Prem'

Credits

Writers: Mischief
DT (UK)
G41 (UK)

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