"When no one is listening, the beat is listening,” declares a Delhi-based rapper in a YouTube vlog by Suraj Prince. This simple yet profound statement captures the essence of hip hop—a culture that has been flourishing in the neighbourhoods of Delhi. TMS delves into the beats, battles, and creative defiance of this movement, speaking to artists at its forefront and emerging talents alike.
Aditya Tiwari, aka MC Kode, is a pivotal figure in Delhi’s hip hop landscape. A co-founder of Spit Dope Inc., a decade-old hip hop collective, Kode reflects on the culture’s journey: “I think the discovery of hip-hop stopped when Bollywood made a film about it. That’s where the roots fell. Now it’s just capitalism—get the hustle out, get one show out. Even Indian Idol has Badshah on it now. They’ve been selling hip-hop.”
Despite its commercialisation, Kode views hip-hop as a radical force capable of challenging societal norms. “Hip hop gave the youth a space, a community, and tools. The rage bottled up inside, those emotions—letting it loose is deeply personal. Battle rap, for instance, is a way to prove yourself and demand that people listen to you,” he says.
Kode’s personal story is deeply intertwined with Delhi’s hip-hop rise. Growing up in the city, he began writing battle raps on Orkut in the early 2010s to process his grief after his father’s suicide. Founding Spit Dope became a natural extension of his need for creative and emotional release. “Building Spit Dope and holding onto this art form carries individual value for the artist and the culture,” he reflects.
Hauz Khas, the birthplace
“It started with something Delhi didn’t have,” Kode recalls. “In Nepal, Pakistan, America, even Russia, hip hop always existed. In India, when we started Spit Dope, hip hop was confined to people who knew about it in their bedrooms.”
Spit Dope catalysed a movement. “Seedhe Maut started with Spit Dope. Building a community isn’t a one-man job. Everyone kept each other grounded. Back then, we began meeting every weekend at Hauz Khas,” he says.
Hauz Khas, became the cradle of Delhi’s hip hop scene. “Every Sunday, people of all ages gathered. It was amateur to start with—lots of kids using words they didn’t fully understand. But that rawness was necessary for growth,” Kode explains.
The gatherings weren’t without challenges. “The local community was sceptical. People wondered, ‘Who are these kids in baggy pants?’ There was resistance, even legal troubles. But resistance fuels hip hop—it’s rooted in a ‘defy the system’ mindset. That’s what kept Spit Dope going,” he says.
Hip hop radicalism
Kode believes hip hop’s appeal lies in its raw power to connect. “Hip hop is the most expressive art form. A good album is like a book—a complete narrative,” he says. He highlights its accessibility: “You don’t need instruments to rap. No guitar, no computer. You could rap right now. That’s why it resonates everywhere—from tier-3 towns to urban centres.”
The ability to connect has made hip hop a tool even for political campaigns. Yet, the genre’s essence runs deeper. “You can’t just shout, ‘defy the system.’ But if I make a song about it, I’m getting the job done,” Kode says. He describes battle rap as “a rage room where you break things—competitive, vulgar, lovely. Nothing like it exists in society.”
Battle rap’s ephemeral nature is unique. “You never repeat a battle rap. I’ve been writing for 10 years, and I can’t reuse lines. The audience is too smart for that,” Kode explains. The genre’s lack of melody shifts focus to rhythm—a pulsating beat matching the rapper’s words and movements. Large, rapid hand gestures enhance the performer’s aura, showcasing confidence and unpredictability.
Audience interaction adds another layer. Rhythmic head bangs, handshakes, and the resounding “AYEEE” chorus acknowledge subversive, impactful lines. The fashion—caps, loose clothing, chains, headbands—completes the vibe, visually connecting the artist to the culture.
At a recent Spit Dope gathering at TOT Studio, Lajpat Nagar, emerging artists showcased their skills. Among them, Purab Paschim, a hip-hop duo and childhood neighbours, performed songs exploring dreams, parental relationships, and youthful aspirations. The highlight was the beatboxing battles, proving that even without words in the normative sense, language is in the beat itself, speaking enough to engage in a battle.
What is battle rap?
Hip hop, however, has its critiques. The genre’s penchant for gaali (abuse), sexist comments, and crudeness raises questions. Kode addresses this: “When people give gaali, it’s not just a filler. It’s like a punchline, a springboard to move ahead in the song. At the end of the day, rap is just words. I can be held liable for what I say. In fact, I should be held liable for what I say—that’s how people will eventually learn and grow out of it,” he says.
He also acknowledges rap’s patriarchal roots but views it as a reflection of society at large. “Comedy, acting—everything is not representative of women. Rap is no exception. That’s patriarchy in the world,” he observes. He adds, “In this movement of hip hop, you have everything to save. When society is crumbling, so is rap. But that complexity makes the genre urge you to say something—you actually have to say a lot. You can’t just sing; rap allows for more expression. We don’t know what’s better for society; society will tell us, and we’ll try to achieve that. That’s the movement.”
Spitting in the city
As for Spit Dope, the collective is focused on building a self-sustaining ecosystem. “It is not corporate-friendly, so that is where battle rap also suffers. Nobody will advertise. It has to be behind closed doors. The money has to be entrepreneurial,” Kode shares. Though its weekly gatherings at Hauz Khas have relatively dwindled, the community has spread across the city—from Jamnapar rap to Swastik Vihar rap communities.
Delhi itself inspires its hip hop artists. “The city’s rhythms—the thak thak thak of traffic, the automation, the crudeness—they mirror life and hip hop’s complexities,” Kode says. From protests to blood donation camps, Delhi’s flux becomes a metaphor for the genre.
Hip hop in Delhi isn’t just music; it’s a movement, a community, an identity. It thrives on defiance, creativity, and the relentless beat that’s always listening. In its demand for truth and instinctive expression, hip hop reshapes the idea of an audience—transforming everyone into a performer. As the genre evolves, its trajectory will remain a reflection of society itself.
Uday, Parv, Sicklot, Sahaj, OG Tehran and Jazz R will be performing at a spit dope gathering ‘Arcade’ on December 8, 5 pm onwards at Black by Lash in East of Kailash.