Ankith Woods raps like your favourite meme account had an existential crisis, then downloaded FL Studio and never looked back. On Ankith Always Trippin — a new 14-track tag-team effort with Detroit producer and DJ legend RJ Lamont — the Michigan rapper turns chaos into catharsis, heartbreak into punchlines, and absurdity into art.
Woods has always walked a tightrope between irony and sincerity, but here, the balance feels sharper. His bars land like inside jokes between friends who’ve smoked too much and cried in gas station parking lots. Over RJ’s rubbery, menacing Detroit beats, he veers from surreal flexes to raw oversharing, often in the same breath — like if Bladee and BabyTron wrote a group therapy script and accidentally made a club record.
There’s no filler. Just anxiety-laced brags, emoji-coded pain, and beats that sound like they were built to soundtrack a depressive episode on Facetime. Tracks like “Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” and “Contract” are both wildly unserious and deeply intentional — meta rap for kids who grew up too online and feel too much.
Woods is for the Lana Del Rey girlies who skipped prom to make playlists about people they met on Discord. He’s for the athletes-turned-anarchists and the sadboys who learned emotional literacy from Tumblr. His mixtapes feel like they belong in a sock drawer next to stolen Xanax and love letters you’ll never send.
And while he’s still unsigned, co-signs from On The Radar, 1900 Rugrat, and NFL players like Caedan Wallace and Jameson Williams prove the hype isn’t just local anymore — it’s leaking into locker rooms and late-night sets alike.
Ankith Always Trippin isn’t just a rap album. It’s a shared delusion. A fever dream in designer jeans. And like all great underground pop culture, it’s rooted in the very things people say you should grow out of: being too sensitive, too weird, too much.
Ankith Woods isn’t trying to play by the rules. He’s rewriting the script — one joke, one beat, one emotional overshare at a time.
