“My Rolex is fake, but my soul is real,” shouts Claudio in the break after the first hook. “I’m the boss of the street and if you're gonna hang with us, you need a tough heart!” He’s fucked over everyone in the slums of Chile in the Andes, been homeless in New York, and now he’s here - in a Nørrebro studio with Rolexkopi. The four tried and true hip hoppers that make up Rolexkopi bow down to the God that is “funk” and know that the only commandment of rap is that there are no commandments. Rolexkopi IS the street. The side street. The backyard. The dive bar. The after party to the after party. The last uncensored voice from the reality which surrounds us, whether we want to admit it or not.
“If you’re offended and repulsed and every radio station refuses to play ‘Jetset Sigøjnerliv,’ then we’ve achieved our goal,” says John Teflon aka Phille Hankat, who raps alongside Jokeren in this sanctuary of a track made by gangsters for gangsters.
The video is morbidly decadent in a way that refuses to let you look away from the Kalashnikovs, hookers with gold teeth, muscle cars, and the crooner king Mr. Mo from Kaliber who acts like a Trojan horse crashing through the gates to Sodoma and Gomorrow. Rolexkopi isn’t here to shake any hands or proverbially suck any radio executive’s dick. They’re here to liberate rap and bring it back to the streets where it belongs, uncensored and raw. “We say whatever the fuck we want,” concludes Jokeren. “This is a mixtape for all of you who are fed up with listening to whiney auto-tuned R&B with shitty hooks and weird hocus pocus punchlines that you don’t get because they have nothing to say.”
Follow the messed up world of Rolexkopi here, and catch them on the 21st of May at Pumpehuset.