En Fattig Mixtape För En Fattiglapp by Kingsize – A Raw, Unfiltered Swedish Hip-Hop Gem
Yo, let me tell you about this mixtape that hit me like a punch to the gut in all the right ways. En Fattig Mixtape För En Fattiglapp by Kingsize dropped back in 2008, and it’s one of those projects that doesn’t scream for attention but still grabs you by the collar and won’t let go. It’s raw, gritty, and unapologetically Swedish hip-hop at its core. Released through Datpiff, this ain’t some polished studio album; it’s more like a diary entry set to beats.
The vibe? Pure underground hustle. You can feel the cold Swedish streets seeping into every track. Tracks like “Hittat Min Plats” and “Jag Vet (med Richie Adams)” stick with you—not because they’re perfect, but because they’re real. Like, real.
Take “Hittat Min Plats,” for example. Man, this joint hits different. It’s not flashy or trying too hard—it’s just Kingsize laying down his truth over a beat that feels kinda haunting. The lyrics are simple yet heavy, talking about finding your place when life keeps pushing you around. I remember listening to this late at night, staring at my ceiling, thinking, “Damn, yeah… I get it.” It’s relatable as hell if you’ve ever felt lost and were tired of pretending everything was fine.
And then there’s “Jag Vet (med Richie Adams).” This one slaps harder than most songs from bigger names. Sia on production? Chef’s kiss. That bassline is so smooth, it almost distracts you from how brutally honest the verses are. Kingsize and Richie trade bars like two dudes venting after a long day, spitting truths about loyalty, struggle, and staying true to yourself. It’s messy, heartfelt, and exactly what hip-hop should be—no filters, no apologies.
Other tracks like “Akta Din Stil” and “Dom Tittar På Mig” bring that edgy energy, while cuts like “Intro” and “Forspel” set the tone without overstaying their welcome. Even the freestyles, like “Maki Freestyle,” have this off-the-cuff charm that makes you appreciate the craft behind the chaos.
But here’s the thing: this mixtape isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for radio-friendly hooks or glossy production, nah, this ain’t it. What it does do, though, is give you a piece of Kingsize’s soul. It’s like he took whatever scraps he had and turned them into something meaningful. And honestly? That’s worth more than any shiny mainstream hit.
Reflecting on this project now, years later, it reminds me of why I fell in love with hip-hop in the first place. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being real. Listening to this mixtape feels like flipping through an old photo album. You see the cracks, the imperfections, but also the beauty in the moments captured. And honestly? Sometimes the best art comes from people who don’t have much but pour everything they’ve got into what they create.
So yeah, shoutout to Kingsize for making something so unpolished yet unforgettable. Oh, and fun fact—I still can’t figure out why “Session” is listed twice. Maybe it’s a mistake, or maybe it’s intentional. Either way, it kinda fits the whole vibe of the tape, doesn’t it? Imperfect, unexpected, but totally authentic.
