That’s Not Me by Skepta Lyrics Meaning – Decoding a Grime Anthem’s Stance on Authenticity and Growth
Lyrics
Front to the back, left to the right, wagwan?
One line flows yeah I got some of those
Easy work, let’s go
I go in!
Nah, that’s not me
Act like a wasteman? That’s not me
Sex any girl? Nah that’s not me
Lips any girl? Nah that’s not me
Yeah, I used to wear Gucci
Put it all in the bin ’cause that’s not me
True, I used to look like you
But dressing like a mess? Nah, that’s not me
Ayo! It’s the return of the mack
I’m still alive just like 2Pac
Girls in the front row, girls in the back
Spit one lyric everybody’s like brap
Flashback to the cold nights in the trap
Now I’m in a new whip counting the big stack
Yellow-gold chains and the diamonds are black
Jack me? Nah you don’t wanna do that
Anytime you see me wearing a glove
Boy Better Know I ain’t coming to fight like Jet Li
Spray this till the clip is empty
I know you get what I’m saying, you get me?
Love for the G’s in the ends
But we don’t love no girls in the ends
Last time I fell in love with a sket
But trust me, I will never do that again
Nah, that’s not me
Act like a wasteman? That’s not me
Sex any girl? Nah that’s not me
Lips any girl? Nah that’s not me
Yeah, I used to wear LV
Put it all in the bin cause that’s not me
True, I used to look like you
But dressing like a mess? Nah, that’s not me
You see me, I come from the roads
You wanna try and put Skepta on hold
But no, badboy I’ve been one of those
Wake up call, you will get one of those
One to the eyeball, one to the nose
I don’t really care about your postcode
Take your girl, no dinner, no rose
Two minutes in my bedroom, no clothes
Girls everywhere, girls in the club
Looking at me, tryna make a black man blush
Girls on the high street, girls on the bus
But these niggas wanna hang around us, that’s sus
I don’t wanna see a Stone Island, cuz
Man talk shit, I just smile and flush
I’m looking for a girl with an X factor
But I don’t judge like Simon does
From day one I said I was serious
Then “Serious” hit the jackpot (jackpot)
People ask what music I make
Turn the volume up, ’cause that’s what
I don’t wear no bait designer brands
I spit deep bars in my black top
You’ll never see me smoking a cigarette
‘Cah cigarette smoker that’s not me
Nah, that’s not me
Nah, that’s not
When I’m on the mic in a rave
I got the whole crowd bubbling like a crack pot (crack pot)
See me and Skepta in a video, with a nostalgic backdrop
There’ll never be a day when I don’t make music
‘Cause silent? Nah that’s not me
Nah, that’s not me
Act like a wasteman? That’s not me
Sex any girl? Nah that’s not me
Lips any girl? Nah that’s not me
Yeah, I used to wear Gucci
Put it all in the bin cause that’s not me
True, I used to look like you
But dressing like a mess? Nah, nah, that’s not me
Nah, that’s not me
Act like a wasteman? That’s not me
Sex any girl? Nah that’s not me
Lips any girl? Nah that’s not me
Yeah, I used to wear LV
I put it all in the bin cause that’s not me
True, I used to look like you
But dressing like a mess? Nah, that’s not me
Greez!
My family
J M E!
Greez
Skepta’s ‘That’s Not Me’ is a grimy beacon of self-awareness and rejection of pretense. It’s a track where Joseph Junior Adenuga, better known as Skepta, smuggles in the grit of his Tottenham roots beneath the sleek veneer of beats, becoming an anthem for authenticity in a genre often draped in bravado and ostentation.
Peeling back layers of Skepta’s rhymes reveals not just a catchy hook but a manifesto on personal evolution, societal expectations, and cultural identifiers. It’s a nod to grime’s ethos – a refusal of being anything but oneself – and Skepta’s personal rebuke of the fame that could have changed him.
Unwrapping the Mantra of Self-identity
In the chorus of ‘That’s Not Me’, there is a repeating of renunciation – acts of a ‘wasteman’, promiscuity, and indulgence in luxury brands are disavowed with a decisive ‘Nah, that’s not me’. Skepta isn’t just dropping lines; he’s shedding skin, distancing Joseph Adenuga from the Skepta persona that the world sees.
By stripping away the fabric of designer labels and the expectations of a hip-hop lifestyle, he redefines success on his own terms. The symbols of success he once wore no longer appeal. They do not align with who he has become – a theme that resonates deeply with anyone at a crossroads between perception and reality.
The Hidden Meaning Behind the Bravado
Between the declarative chorus and the vivid imagery, there lurks a subtle commentary on the fickle nature of fame and the music industry’s churn. Skepta touches on the idea that respect among peers is not gained by material wealth or even talent alone, but by staying true to one’s roots and identity.
The track’s ethos is a reminder of the fickleness of fame—yesterday’s trends become today’s trash, but self-respect and integrity endure. Skepta’s focus on past experiences with endearing candor allows fans to witness the transformation from chasing symbols of status to embracing substance and significance.
Navigating the Allure of Transformation
Skepta doesn’t shy away from discussing the transformations people undergo in pursuit of fame or acceptance. However, he doesn’t condemn change—it’s the why and how that concern him. ‘I used to look like you,’ he admits, acknowledging a shared past with his listeners.
Yet, it’s his departure from this past that carries the weight of his message. He doesn’t just wish to look different; he wants to be different. ‘But dressing like a mess? Nah, that’s not me’ is a line that mocks past mistakes while simultaneously setting new standards for himself.
Memorable Lines That Echo Beyond Music
‘Flashback to the cold nights in the trap / Now I’m in a new whip counting the big stack,’ Skepta juxtaposes the harsh realities of street life with the fruits of his labor. Yet, even in success, he refuses to let go of the ‘cold nights’ that shaped him.
‘When I’m on the mic in a rave / I got the whole crowd bubbling like a crack pot’ isn’t just a boast about his prowess on stage; it’s a showcase of influence and the power of words. Skepta sees himself as a craftsman of culture, stirring the pot, influencing, and swirling ideas into the minds of his listeners.
The Raw Grit of the London Streets
Skepta’s artistic roots are firmly planted in the grime scene – a genre born out of the inner-city estates of London. This context infuses his lyrics with a certain unpolished rawness, a credit to his upbringing and the resilience found within those communities.
The name-dropping of his crew, Boy Better Know, and his acknowledgment of the predicaments faced by those in the ends, paints a loyalty to the locale that made him. Despite his international success, the gravitational pull of his origins keeps his music grounded and relatable to the streets that listen.
