Thru the Walls by Death Grips Lyrics Meaning – Unveiling the Anarchic Soul of Rebellion
Lyrics
Plutonium lore
What this is, what this for
Feel my fists push black holes
Through your bitch ass decor
Split it back like a whore
And make you shit your fucking drawers
Scared to ride, cowards fall
Before my eyes, sound of my balls
Dragging like cannon loaded wagons
Drug by demons down your halls
Can’t imagine whats fit to happen
When I get to flashing, see the small
Shrink to a fraction of what their lacking
And less than that in no time at all.
Can’t believe they have the gaul
To try and act like they’re not trapped
Between these walls …
Bring it, bring it, bring it, kill it
Bring it, bring that shit heated
Sling it, bring back that shit – kill it
Sometimes feel like I’m close but never get there
NEVER GET THERE
Does it mean I’m a ghost if I’m still here?
WANNA LEAVE HERE
And if I am why can’t I just float through the walls?
THROUGH THE WALLS
And if I can, were they even ever there at all?
NOT AT ALL
Too much time spent in the maze will drive you mad, I feel so bad
Been there so long I can’t remember who I am, or where I stand
But in the end I guess I just don’t give a damn
Twist a gram and keep on sticking with the original plan
Fuck it man
Judge you no more than I wish to be judged
Even on the low
But I do know what you do not speak of
Don’t know but it shows
Try to hide but I see who you are because
I just know
Keep talking but you already said too much
There you go
How it is now’s how it it always was
That’s on my blood
How it is now’s how it it always was
That’s on my blood
Bring it, bring that shit heated
Sling it, bring back that shit – kill it
See my blood spill drip, by chances
Try to chill, quit, cuz I can’t just slip into a zagthoth trance
Tongue hissing, serpent chants
Come again work it in, yeah just like that
We paint our insides black
As the shadows ‘hind our flesh
And make all that we lack
The part of life that we forget
All praise due to the fact
That we’ve forgotten how to sweat it
Check it
Bring it
KILL IT
On everything I own
Swear would rather slit my throat and die on the run
Than be the one who ends up hangin from that rope
Tied to the thumb of the man who comes to empty your pockets when you choke
Got to get that shit myself and get the fuck out of this game
Before I end up getting stuck with no one but myself to blame
All the way insane
Staring at the ceiling
In the dark
Trying not to let the feeling
Tear you apart
But the silence is buzzing
And it won’t stop
Tell yourself its almost over
But its not
The visceral explosion that Death Grips delivers in ‘Thru the Walls’ transcends music—it’s a cataclysmic rebellion against convention, a psychological battering ram through society’s faux decorum. In this track, MC Ride, the enigmatic frontman, serves not just as a vocalist, but as an oracle for the disenfranchised, a voice booming from the abyss of modern disillusionment.
This song isn’t just an audial experience. It’s a confrontation, a challenge to the listener to delve deeper into the psyche of rebellion and disarray, which Death Grips orchestrates with unnerving finesse. Let’s unpack the layers that make this track a bracing commentary on existence, rage, and liberation within the confines of an oppressive society.
A Blast of the Uncontainable: Raw Rage and Rebellion
From the outset, ‘Thru the Walls’ is a declaration of unstoppable force, a testament to the ethos of Death Grips. The lyrics ‘I’m coming through, thought you knew, fuck if you didn’t, fuck you’ serve as a hammer to the mirror of complacency. Ride’s emphasis on unannounced invasion of space exposes society’s fragility—those ‘bitch ass decor’ that humans erect to feign control.
Plutonium lore, as mentioned, is not just a mere pop-culture reference. It’s a symbol of the explosive and toxic potential within each verse. Death Grips isn’t just creating music; they’re creating a hazardous environment that questions the very fabric of societal norms through their aggressive sonic assault.
Ethereal Existence: Haunting Queries of Being
There’s more to the song than the feverish, anarchic delivery. It grapples with existential quandaries, posing raw questions about the nature of being and perception. ‘Sometimes feel like I’m close but never get there / Does it mean I’m a ghost if I’m still here?’ explores the liminal space between tangible reality and the metaphysical journey of the soul.
‘And if I am why can’t I just float through the walls?’ solidifies this introspection, suggesting that physical barriers are emblematic of deeper, more entrenched limitations—perhaps emotional, spiritual, or intellectual—that we struggle to transcend.
Through the Shadows: Embracing the Abyss Within
In a chilling admission, Death Grips paints a narrative of internal darkness with ‘We paint our insides black / As the shadows ‘hind our flesh.’ The song dives headfirst into the abyss that lingers behind every façade, arguing that the unacknowledged darkness within is what animates the human experience.
Acknowledging the darkness isn’t portrayed as defeat, but as a potent reminder of our humanity. By confronting it, Death Grips implies a form of authenticity, an acceptance of human limitation and the forgotten instinctual drives that bleed into our conscious selves.
The Hidden Meaning: Scorning the Mercenary Grip of Modern Life
One cannot overlook the overtly anti-capitalist sentiment running through the song’s veins. Ride’s lyrics ‘Than be the one who ends up hangin from that rope / Tied to the thumb of the man who comes to empty your pockets when you choke’ evoke a stirring image of society’s disposable nature towards individual struggle.
The sentiment conveyed is fiercely clear—Death Grips denounces the transactional nature of life under the thumb of oppressive powers. They are speaking out for the disillusioned ones who recognize this grim reality, who are desperate to reclaim autonomy before they, too, become another casualty of the system.
Memorable Lines: Prophetic Verses and Inescapable Truths
Death Grips doesn’t just provide music—they provide mantras for the modern malaise. ‘How it is now’s how it it always was / That’s on my blood’ – The relentlessness of this refrain speaks to generational chains of disillusionment. It’s not a declaration of defeat but an acknowledgement of reality that sparks an intense desire for change.
The anthemic call to ‘Bring it, bring that shit heated / Sling it, bring back that shit – kill it’ demands an almost shamanic responsibility to confront the status quo. With each repetition, the line carves deeper into the psyche, urging the listener not just to observe but to partake in the catharsis that is ‘Thru the Walls’.
