Death – Unearthing the Layers of Reality and Bravado


You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for Trippie Redd's Death at Lyrics.org.
Article Contents:
  1. Music Video
  2. Lyrics
  3. Song Meaning
  4. Dancing with Danger: The Bravado of Street Allegiances
  5. A Hive Mind Mentality: Unity in the Face of Adversity
  6. Fashion Threads and Threats: The Aesthetics of Aggression
  7. Hidden in Plain Verse: The Song’s Veiled Commentary
  8. ‘Murder murder slatt,’ the Echoes We Can’t Ignore

Lyrics

You dig?
You gon’ die
You gon’ die
You gon’ die

Yeah uh, what that mean?
Yeah, what that mean?
I’m outside, pop out gang with the team bitch
Ooh, what that mean?
We all lit, that’s on gang
That’s on me, bitch
Ooh, yeah, huh
Murder murder slatt
Choppa big (yeah), it blow your back (yeah)
Hanging with them slatts (yeah)
Pussy nigga we tote gats (yeah)
Nigga you get whacked (yeah, yeah)
That’s on gang and that’s all facts, uh

We shoot .223’s (baw)
We’ll take your life (gang)
We out with the gang
You know we gon’ slide
We out with them bees
All up in a hive
You talk down on me
Nigga you gon’ die
We a different kind
And we be on different times
Rocking number nine jeans
And I be so fly
We from different sides
Pussy I’ma up that fire
Talking all that tough shit on the gang
Pussy bitch and you gon’ die

Yeah, huh, you gon’ die
Yeah nigga, you gon’ die
Huh, you gon’ die

Yeah uh, what that mean?
Yeah, what that mean?
I’m outside, pop out gang with the team bitch
Ooh, what that mean?
We all lit, that’s on gang
That’s on me, bitch
Ooh, yeah, huh
Murder murder slatt
Choppa big (yeah), it blow your back (yeah)
Hanging with them slatts (yeah)
Pussy nigga we tote gats (yeah)
Nigga you get whacked (yeah, yeah)
That’s on gang and that’s all facts, uh

Let’s go, let’s go
Have you ever seen a nigga die? (Yeah)
When I did, went home and smoked a blunt
No a nigga didn’t cry (let’s go)
Don’t fuck with niggas on different sides
These niggas be switching sides (and I)
In a whip with a nigga bitch inside
Finna give my dick a ride
Only nigga that be talking bout’ gang shit
be on lame shit, ain’t never bang shit
We get a pic right now and a pic back then
It’s like the same pic, I’m with the same clique
I’m with Trippie Redd (yeah)
You with a bitch he scared (ha)
A lot of niggas like to play with they life
The last nigga who played with my clique, he dead
I had to

Yeah, huh, you gon’ die
Yeah nigga, you gon’ die
Huh, you gon’ die

Yeah uh, what that mean?
Yeah, what that mean?
I’m outside, pop out gang with the team bitch
Ooh, what that mean?
We all lit, that’s on gang
That’s on me, bitch
Ooh, yeah, huh
Murder murder slatt
Choppa big (yeah), it blow your back (yeah)
Hanging with them slatts (yeah)
Pussy nigga we tote gats (yeah)
Nigga you get whacked (yeah, yeah)
That’s on gang and that’s all facts, uh

Full Lyrics

Trippie Redd’s ‘Death’ is not just a melody with hard-hitting beats, but a canvas painted with the darker hues of street life, survival, and the ethos of loyalty. The trap-infused track, laced with the candor and chilling nonchalance typical of the Ohio-bred artist, dives into themes of mortality, allegiance, and the relentless street code.

On the surface, ‘Death’ may come across as another homage to gang culture and its ruthless ramifications. Yet, a closer examination reveals an intricate play of poetic devices that craft a powerful narrative about the brevity and sanctity of life in a world that often rewards the vicious and punishes the weak.

Dancing with Danger: The Bravado of Street Allegiances

Trippie Redd’s ‘Death’ wields a blunt-force approach to the declaration of gang allegiance. The insistence of ‘You gon’ die’ isn’t merely a threat but rather an unflinching acceptance of the high-stakes game the speaker is involved in. This fatalistic motto hammers in the reality that violence is a companion to those on the fringes of the lawful world.

The narrative isn’t just a chest-thumping demonstration of strength but a chilling acknowledgement of the cycle of retribution and brutality that marks territories marked by gang warfare. It highlights how life on the edge is less a choice and more a consequence of the environment one is entrenched in.

A Hive Mind Mentality: Unity in the Face of Adversity

The lyrics ‘We all lit, that’s on gang’ encapsulate a profound sense of unity and readiness that binds the collective. It’s a testament to the hive mind mentality that defines such brotherhoods, drawing a parallel between the meticulous organization of bees and the structure of gang affiliation.

The implication is clear: step out of line or challenge the swarm, and you invite collective wrath. Trippie Redd, haughtily riding the beat, vaunts this collective muscle, reminding us that although the individual may be mortal, the gang is an entity that outlives any single threat.

Fashion Threads and Threats: The Aesthetics of Aggression

For the uninitiated, ‘Rocking number nine jeans / And I be so fly’ might seem like a mere fashion statement, but in the context of ‘Death,’ it’s an ostentation of identity and a subtle admission of the profitability that stems from a life of risk.

Trippie Redd’s juxtaposition of designer clothing against the rugged backdrop of gang life serves as a cultural screed about value, appearance, and the survival of those who not only endure but also thrive in the grimiest of circumstances.

Hidden in Plain Verse: The Song’s Veiled Commentary

It’s easy to dismiss ‘Death’ as another hedonistic trip down violence lane, but tucked between the layers and explicit imagery is a muted commentary on social issues like the disposability of young lives, the spiraling effect of gang culture, and the normalization of death.

Phrases such as ‘When I did, went home and smoked a blunt / No a nigga didn’t cry’ narrate desensitization to violence and loss – a tragic acceptance that grief is a luxury one can’t afford when the next threat looms around the corner.

‘Murder murder slatt,’ the Echoes We Can’t Ignore

Repeated lines like ‘Murder murder slatt’ may seem like mere artistic decoration, yet they probe into the psyche of an individual who has to chant the mantra of survival in a world that understands only the language of power and retaliation.

Such lines aren’t just memorable for their melodic ingenuity; they bear the weight of a grim reality – an echo chamber where the call of violence is both a cry for help and a battle cry, a reminder to all within earshot that the stakes of this life are dangerously real.

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