Supernatural by Trippie Redd Lyrics Meaning – Beyond the Ethereal Trap Vibe
Lyrics
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Take a chill pill
Bitch, I’m from 800 where we kill, kill
Walked up, do a drill, drill
Pop out like a pill, pill
Wake up in the morning spark a blunt and crack a damn seal
We ballin’, bitch, I break the back board, Shaquille O’Neal (yeah, yeah)
Big chopper turn like Timmy, we got Dracos with titties
We got kids runnin’ around with semis
That ain’t love, that’s envy
Big Jurassic in your city
Beamers, Benz and Bentleys
Rollin’ ’round G-Wagon
Lean go to my kidneys
Bitch, I’m a monster, bitch, I’m a goon, how can I lose?
Bitch, I’m a winner, diamonds they dancing on me like the winter
(I got the shells) No Master Splinter
(I got them bales) Put the blick on my hitter
(Put a cross on my nails) But they won’t cross my niggas
Big 14, know what the fuck going on
Gang
(On my gang) Whoa
(On my gang) Nigga
(On my gang) On my gang
(On my gang) Whoa
(On my gang) On my gang
Yeah
With the gang, I’m a rebel, I make treaties with the devil
I’m in space don’t need no shuttle
Don’t be scared, don’t need no trouble
I just downed this Hennessy, got me seeing double
Counting chips, don’t let the cookie crumble
We keep blicks, got that bag and I won’t ever fumble
Trippie versus the whole damn gang, it’s like a royal rumble
Pussy boy got pushed out the whip, I watched him roll and tumble
Your bitch kissing on my dick, look like she blowing bubbles
Yeah, you niggas Autobots, I’m a damn Gundam
Walk around this bitch like I’m the pops
Now they mad I sonned ’em
Summing up the paychecks, I’ma get this cash
Summing up that paycheck, I’ma get that bag
Private flights to Berlin, I got jetlag
Niggas try to steal my shine and I jetpack
And I’m only going up from here
Like a jetpack
And your homie, I rolled up in here, it’s that good pack
(It’s good shit, bitch, gang)
Whoa
Whoa
(On my gang)
In an era where the distinction between reality and fantasy blurs within the beats of hip-hop, Trippie Redd’s ‘Supernatural’ forges its own enigmatic path. At first listen, the track comes across as a traditional braggadocio of urban life, laced with allusions to power and the supernatural. Yet, beneath the bombast and bravado, there’s an intricate tapestry to unravel.
Trippie Redd, real name Michael Lamar White II, known for his angst-ridden melodics and emo-trap aesthetic, dives into a lexicon that mingles the elements of fame, materialism, and eerie transcendence. The song ‘Supernatural’ isn’t just an audacious declaration of his indefatigable spirit; it’s a layered manifesto of a rapper walking between two worlds.
A Haunting Dive Into the Streets and Stardom
The verses of ‘Supernatural’ oscillate between the concrete jungle and the abstract heights of success. It’s as if Trippie is constantly switching lenses, capturing snapshots of a life caught in the rough grips of street violence and the glossy sheen of celebrity. His recurrent phrase ‘Take a chill pill’ strikes as both a self-reminder and an admonition to his audience, hinting at an underlying pressure-cooker environment that demands an almost supernatural cool to survive in.
Each reference to violent street activity with the interplays of ‘drill’ parallels the glam of ‘diamonds they dancing on me like the winter’, illustrating a polar dichotomy. The metaphorical switch from the grit of the gang-filled backdrop to the glitter of fame points to a deeper restlessness – a quest for meaning that dances on the knife’s edge.
Metamorphosis Through Melody: Trippie Redd’s Transformation
The artist presents himself as a shapeshifter through his music. From ‘Bitch, I’m a monster’ to ‘bitch, I’m a winner’, the transition is indicative of a chameleon-like ability to adapt and conquer varied terrains. Trippie’s self-proclaimed metamorphosis is not just a testament to his versatility but also a defense mechanism in the unforgiving world of hip-hop.
It’s this transformation that forms the crux of ‘Supernatural’. He casts himself both as a beast of the streets and a sage of success, never truly belonging to one realm or the other. Trippie constructs an alter ego that’s impervious to the earthly afflictions – an invincible yet haunted figure.
Drawing Power from the Dark Side: The Song’s Hidden Meaning
There is a notable line where Trippie admits to ‘make treaties with the devil’, instantly spawning a playground for interpretation. This could be an allusion to the Faustian bargains many artists feel they’ve made in exchange for fame – a common theme in music where success often comes with immense personal cost. Yet, it’s this darkness that fuels the supernatural elements of his persona within the industry.
This evocation of the devil is a double-edged sword that imparts him with the supernatural prowess to ascend above his adversaries but also signifies a continuous conflict within. The self-awareness embedded within these lyrics suggests a nuanced recognition of the price paid for his seat at the high table of hip-hop.
Standing the Test of Time: Memorable Lines that Resonate
Trippie’s lyrical craftsmanship shines in his ability to conjure vivid images with minimal words. The line ‘Your bitch kissing on my dick, look like she blowing bubbles’ stands out not for its explicitness but for its ability to merge raw street vernacular with a playful simplicity. It’s in these lines that the rapper’s penchant for the visceral and the visual finds its best expression.
Moreover, the motif of the ‘jetpack’ that recurs towards the tail-end of the song encapsulates Trippie’s unstoppable rise. The ‘jetpack’ is both a real image of technological prowess and a metaphor for Trippie’s career trajectory—commanding, propulsive, and futuristic.
Championing the Chorus: ‘On my gang’ as a Symbolic Rally Cry
Trippie Redd intensely rouses listeners with the chorus, swinging ‘On my gang’ like a pendulum between the realms of loyalty and legacy. The repetitive nature of the chant-like chorus locks into the psyche, an incantation that calls forth the communal bonds that underpin his tale of triumph and torment.
While the immediate assumption could peg these lines as just another glorification of gang culture, it can also be interpreted as a nuanced ode to the people and the mindset that has shaped him. The insistence on the phrase emboldens the significance of the collective in his supernatural rise—it’s never just Trippie; it’s also his lineage, his heritage, the people who have been part of his odyssey.
