"Krokodil Tränen" by Raubtier Kollektiv bites and takes its prey under its control, rolling until nothing is left but the truth. This is not your average type of German rap release. Raubtier pours chilled disdain over what he calls an artificial nation of depression with a no-mercy, low-ended, autopsy.
The cut is full of caustic simile and uncut street rhymes. The German hip-hop scene is nothing if not about keeping it real, but Raubtier is quite happy to stick his neck out and put himself on the line for what he perceives as cultural rot. In an era when social media rewards melodramatic openness and algorithm-friendly sob stories, "Krokodil Tränen" dares to pose a challenging question. Who's real and who likes posing their scars as designer accessories? You figure that much from the very first few seconds, simpering laughter twirling through the speakers. It's got this low-end bass that sounds like it should be seeping through concrete walls and is layered with alarming percussion elements creeping about the verses as though they were a predator lurking in tall grasses. Raubtier's rap style is precise, efficient, and vicious, a scalpel that slices through the fragile veneer of modern-day victim rappers trying to cash in on their sympathy card while the real ones rot in jail.
"Krokodil Tränen" is more than a diss track, it is a manifesto. Fit in neatly with the primal, unending scape that Raubtier has been constructing on "Zub Deutschland" their recent nine-track concept album that re-imagines street life as an animalistic social structure. In that world, the crocodiles never cry, they lie in wait. They watch. And if they walk, it is over. If there's a lead land shark in the water, this single is the most apex predator off of the album, likely at least one bite stronger than you might think from just that roaring.