Lil Boy – Unveiling the Intensity Behind the Chaos


You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for Death Grips's Lil Boy at Lyrics.org.
Article Contents:
  1. Music Video
  2. Lyrics
  3. Song Meaning
  4. Identity Crisis in a Post-Modern Era
  5. Embracing the Innate Struggle Within
  6. A Baptism by Fire: The Song’s Hidden Meaning
  7. A Wake-Up Call to Disempowerment
  8. Memorable Lines That Tattoo the Brain

Lyrics

Burn through, it burn through it
I’m not takin’ turns to it, turns to it
You know we burn through it, burn through it
We ain’t takin’ turns to, turns to it

Coughin’ up sirens I’m firin’
Crocodile lips off your smile
Quit that fidget looks suspicious
Who dat, screw dat ain’t got my digits

Fear over pride, lil’ boy
Flood you can’t hide, lil’ boy
Face of a woman, lil’ boy
Tears of a child, lil’ boy

I’m rising sign of sulfur
Skeletal bell toller
Handle in each of my tentacles
I’m moonshining juice don’t try me
Live to feel life beat me nothing hurts
I’m seething your smoke signals proceed me
I’m inside my TV
Where everyone but I can see me
Why are you here?

Fear over pride, lil’ boy
Flood you can’t hide, lil’ boy
Face of a woman, lil’ boy
Tears of a child, lil’ boy

Burn through, it burn through it
I’m not takin’ turns to it, turns to it
You know we burn through it, burn through it
We ain’t takin’ turns to, turns to it

You know we burn through it, burn through it
I’m not takin’ turns to it, turns to it

See myself come spin through top of you
My flint lit slit that attitude
Lil’ brain got confused
Choo-choo train of thought in my logic loop

Fear over pride, lil’ boy
Flood you can’t hide, lil’ boy
Face of a woman, lil’ boy
Tears of a child, lil’ boy

Broken hands on all my fingers
Buckle down my knuckles like screamers
Stitch up my blown-out trench with leather streamers
I keep em hangin’ from my balcony, shrivel in my sun
Warm piss showin’ through his cheap slacks, this bitch is done
Open my front ragin’ like I’ve never slept
Make him cry like a baby formula on the breath

Needle of your eye, lil’ boy
River Nile wide, lil’ boy
Fear over pride, lil’ boy
Flood you can’t hide, lil’ boy
Face of a woman, lil’ boy
Tears of a child, lil’ boy
In a foreign land, lil’ boy
Single file, lil’ boy

You know we burn through it, burn through it
We ain’t takin’ turns to, turns to it

Full Lyrics

In the explosive landscape of alternative hip-hop, Death Grips stands as a monolith of disruptive sound and enigmatic lyricism. Their track ‘Lil Boy’—from the 2012 album ‘No Love Deep Web’—is no exception, bleeding raw energy and a seemingly impenetrable cloak of words. To the uninitiated, the chaos may obfuscate any semblance of meaning. Yet, for those willing to excavate the layers of industrial noise, a profound narrative emerges.

Deep beneath the abrasive electronics and frenetic beats crafted by drummer Zach Hill and keyboardist Andy Morin, frontman MC Ride’s visceral lyrics in ‘Lil Boy’ strike with the force of a spiritual cataclysm. The track feels both intensely personal and universal, pushing the listener into a confrontation with their inner turmoil. Grappling with themes of identity, societal pressure, and existential angst, the track presents a complex poetic journey worthy of exploration.

Identity Crisis in a Post-Modern Era

The repeated phrase ‘lil boy’ is not merely a needle stuck on a groove but a deliberate characterization. Predominantly, it raises questions of masculinity and the pressures that come with society’s unwritten codes. By juxtaposing and repeating ‘fear over pride’ and ‘flood you can’t hide,’ there’s a suggested struggle between emotion and the facade one is forced to uphold.

The path to understanding begins with dissecting the ‘face of a woman’ and ‘tears of a child’ lines—symbols for vulnerability and the inescapable reality that regardless of how one presents themselves externally, internally, one’s fears and weaknesses remain universal, regardless of gender or age.

Embracing the Innate Struggle Within

Death Grips often employs a fusion of intense imagery and thematic repetition to convey a feeling of internal conflict. ‘Crocodile lips off your smile’ can be interpreted as a metaphor for the duality of one’s persona—the predator and the prey, the hiding of true emotions behind a hardened facade.

The ‘choo-choo train of thought in my logic loop’ lyric serves as an emblematic Death Grips line, pointing to the cycle of compulsive thoughts and the confusion that comes with trying to find one’s way through the labyrinth of one’s psyche.

A Baptism by Fire: The Song’s Hidden Meaning

Beyond the outer veneer of aggression and dystopic soundscapes, ‘Lil Boy’ can be seen as a rite of passage—a confrontational baptism by fire where one sheds their ‘lil boy’ innocence and naivety. The baptism is not gentle but rather an exposure to the raw truths and harshness of reality.

This transformation is articulated through the hard-hitting ‘burn through it, we ain’t takin’ turns to it’—a possible avowal that life’s lessons are not a shared burden but a personal journey through one’s own trials and the purification that comes from facing them head-on.

A Wake-Up Call to Disempowerment

When analyzing ‘broken hands on all my fingers’ or the crude imagery of ‘warm piss showin’ through his cheap slacks,’ MC Ride employs stark visual cues to delve into themes of humiliation and disempowerment. These lyrics serve as a wake-up call to the listener, a visceral prompt that dispenses with subtlety to convey the degradation one faces when overwhelmed by life.

The line ‘make him cry like a baby formula on the breath’ drives the point further home, indicating a regression to infantile helplessness in the face of one’s afflictions, and perhaps a cynical jab at the expectation to be stoic or to silently weather the storm.

Memorable Lines That Tattoo the Brain

‘I’m inside my TV / Where everyone but I can see me’—MC Ride contends with the notion of self-awareness versus public perception. It’s a clever indictment of voyeuristic culture and the disparity between how one is perceived and the often inaccessible inner self.

In the throes of visceral beats and manic delivery, these lines stick with the listener, painting a raw portrait of isolation and the irony of being visible yet not understood. It’s a lyrical tattoo that is hard to remove, resonating long after the cacophony has faded away.

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