Bullet Ballet testo Lyrics (English Translation) Depha Beat, Universal Music Italia, Mothz, K-Sub, EMI Records, Artie 5ive, Kid Yugi

(Intro)
A

(Verse 1: Kid Yugi)
At thirteen, I drank more vodka than a Gopnik.
Take the ketamine, inject it—that’s a month of crossfit in one shot.
I’m not handsome, but I’m liked. Lie? I do love bombing.
Is Massafra to me like Edinburgh?
If they mess up your haircut, it’s fine, hair grows back.
If they mess up my cut, there’s no coming back from this.
As a kid, I was a Cub Scout.
Now my friend injects it because sniffing doesn’t work for him anymore.
Where I come from looks just like Skyrim.
But I text my ex again just to gaslight her.
I say, “Everybody on blades,” then I go space diving.
I’ll stab in the back anyone who tries to stop me.
Smith & Wesson 29, like Inspector Callaghan.
Give me the drug, give it to me.
I wasn’t born, I leaked out of a bleeding black hole.
I got stuff that separates the body from the soul.
But I can’t even focus if I eat?
I’ve got the evil smile of a greedy Amphora.
Butterfly knife stabs like Sandokan’s kris.
When I lick it, I feel like Count Dracula.
I really am the messiah, I’m the Lisan al’Gaib.
I enter the rap game, I dot the I’s.
The April Theses—this ain’t a CD.
We fuck your women, we piss in your lean.
Obviously Paolo Pasolini didn’t die a hero.
I only talk about shootouts like the Coen brothers.
To fight the hangover, I drink aloe vera juice.
I don’t fear the competition; they’ve all got the ghostwriter.
Pure electricity, Schumann resonance.
I’m not a featherweight, I’m a Yokozuna.
My dick is a scepter, my queen wields it.
Rappers get abused when they come down to Puglia.

(Chorus: Artie 5ive, Kid Yugi)
The flow is heavy, it’s an elephant.
Twenty minutes of drifting, I stall the car.
My vehicle is a Panzer, bu-bu-bullet ballet.
I leave the house in flip-flops, I drink like a Gallagher.
Behind me, only ugly faces.
We want to be paid in cash money.
I get a mullet, I smoke blunts.
I take girls to bed, I wear baggy shirts (5ive).

(Post-Chorus: Artie 5ive, Kid Yugi)
You talk like a snitch, ah (a snitch).
V8 sounds like a tractor (A tractor).
I drive around Milan at night (Drive at night, baby).
I can feel their heat.

(Verse 2: Artie 5ive)
My bandana is red, it stays this color.
Girls in the Range Rover stain my sweater.
I’m not like the others, I don’t seek redemption.
I don’t appreciate fiction, I don’t watch TV.
I’m on a mission for my section,
For my neighborhood, for my platoon.
You made a mistake, they’ll hold a meeting.
Microphones on, speak in a low voice.
At twenty-one I was broke, at twenty-three I sign with Warner.
At twenty-four, a gentleman. I never had a ghostwriter.
Because I’m the author, the instigator of an entire generation.
You seem like the authority to me, the police chief’s son.
I never had a top liner, look for the spoilers yourself.
I don’t fear competition; they’ve all got paranoia.
Assault rifles, I fear the path to extinction.
My shit is already legendary, an auteur film by Sergio Leone.
Do it again, you seem like a fountain.
She comes seven times, sees God on the eighth.
She says, “Enough, I’m tired,” doesn’t want to take a taxi.
Ah, she doesn’t want to go home.
She wants me to show her the guns, where I keep the ganja.
She says her ex sold coke and got us at the trap spot.
I like chicks of every race, I collect cards.
She’s Nubian, it’s so rare to see her in Italy.

(Chorus: Artie 5ive, Kid Yugi)
The flow is heavy, it’s an elephant.
Twenty minutes of drifting, I stall the car.
My vehicle is a Panzer, bu-bu-bullet ballet.
I leave the house in flip-flops, I drink like a Gallagher.
Behind me, only ugly faces.
We want to be paid in cash money.
I get a mullet, I smoke blunts.
I take girls to bed, I wear baggy shirts.

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Lyrics Meaning

“Bullet Ballet” is a gritty, hyper-referential Italian trap track that constructs a world of street bravado, nihilistic excess, and pop-culture-laced aggression. It’s less a linear story and more a visceral mood piece built on fragmented, provocative imagery.

• Nihilistic Excess & Self-Destruction: The lyrics paint a picture of a life lived on the edge, glorifying reckless consumption from a young age (vodka at 13, ketamine), violence (“stab in the back”), and substance use as a form of power or escape (“separates the body from the soul”). It’s a portrait of numbness seeking ever-stronger sensations.

• Cultural References as Armor: The rappers define themselves through a barrage of pop-culture, literary, and cinematic references (Skyrim, Dune‘s Lisan al’Gaib, the Coen brothers, Sergio Leone, Paolo Pasolini, Dracula). These references serve as a shorthand for their mindset, aligning their gritty reality with epic, fictional, or subversive narratives. It’s a way of claiming intellectual depth amidst the chaos.

• Regional Pride & Defiance: There’s a strong sense of Southern Italian (Puglian) identity and pride, positioned in defiance of the mainstream (“Rappers get abused when they come down to Puglia”). Massafra is their Edinburgh, their center of the world. The lyrics frame their journey as a “mission” for their neighborhood and section, mixing street gang mentality with a twisted sense of purpose.

• Performance of Hyper-Masculinity: The track is saturated with classic, exaggerated tropes of toxic masculinity: sexual conquest (“I take girls to bed”), domination (“My dick is a scepter”), financial demands (“paid in cash”), weapon fetishization (“Panzer,” “bullet ballet”), and disdain for emotion or redemption (“I don’t seek redemption”). It’s a deliberate, confrontational performance.

• Meta-Commentary on the Rap Game: There are sharp jabs at the music industry. They boast about not needing ghostwriters (“I never had a ghostwriter”), dismissing competitors who do (“they’ve all got the ghostwriter”). Signing to Warner is a badge of success achieved without conforming. The “bullet ballet” itself is a metaphor for their dangerous, artistic flow in a game they see as soft.

• Overall Essence: The song is a chaotic, stylish, and intentionally offensive blast of energy. It doesn’t seek empathy but demands attention through shock value, cultural literacy, and unapologetic celebration of a destructive, street-level aesthetic. It’s the soundtrack to a reckless, reference-heavy, and fiercely territorial ego trip.