It was late 2016. The underground rap scene felt like a pressure cooker, and at the center of that heat were two cousins from New Orleans who seemed intent on breaking every rule of the industry. When Kill Yourself Part IV finally dropped, it wasn't just another track in a long line of EPs. It felt like a shift. A pivot. Honestly, if you were scrolling through SoundCloud back then, you remember the exact moment the beat hit.
The track sits as a standalone single, distinct from the I No Longer Fear the Razor Guarding My Heel series or the numbered sagas that defined their early prolific run. It’s raw. It’s arguably one of the most melodic yet crushing entries in their entire discography. People often confuse the "Kill Yourself" series with the "Sagas," but Part IV is its own beast entirely. It’s the sound of $crim and Ruby Da Cherry realizing they weren't just niche internet curiosities anymore—they were becoming the voice of a very specific, very disenfranchised generation.
The Production Magic Behind Kill Yourself Part IV
Let’s talk about that beat. DJ BJ produced this one, which is a departure from $crim’s usual total control over the production desk. It samples "I'm So Tired" by The Beatles. Yeah, that Beatles. It’s a bold move. Sampling John Lennon is a high-wire act; you either make something iconic or you get sued into oblivion and look like a hack.
They made it iconic.
The way the guitar loop hangs in the air feels like smoke in a dark room. It’s heavy. It’s sluggish. It perfectly mirrors the exhaustion expressed in the lyrics. When Ruby comes in, his flow is more restrained than his usual chaotic energy. He’s not screaming. He’s tired. You can hear the actual weight of the road and the lifestyle in his vocal delivery.
Most rappers use samples as a gimmick. $uicideboy$ use them as a foundation for an entire emotional state. In Kill Yourself Part IV, the sample isn't just background noise; it's the heartbeat of the song. It creates this eerie, nostalgic atmosphere that feels both like a warm hug and a cold sweat. It’s weird how that works. Music shouldn't be able to do both at once, but here we are.
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Ruby and $crim: A Study in Contrast
Ruby’s verse is a masterclass in internal rhyme schemes. He talks about the "7th Ward Lord" persona, but there’s a vulnerability there that often gets overlooked by critics who only see the "shock value" of their name. He’s talking about the isolation that comes with fame. It’s a classic trope, sure, but he makes it feel visceral.
Then $crim takes over.
$crim’s verse is more grounded in the reality of addiction and the physical toll of his environment. He’s "sipping on some syrup" but it doesn’t sound like a celebration. It sounds like a chore. That’s the thing about this track—it’s one of the first times they really leaned into the "sad boy" aesthetic without it feeling forced or like they were chasing a trend. They were the trend.
Why the numbering matters
- Part I was the beginning of the mythos.
- Part II and III built the cult following.
- Part IV (this track) solidified their status as underground kings.
- The series eventually became a hallmark of the G59 brand.
The fans notice the patterns. They notice when the tone shifts. By the time Part IV arrived, the duo was playing bigger stages. They were touring Europe. The stakes were higher. You can hear the pressure in the bars. It’s a document of a specific time in New Orleans hip-hop history that will likely never be replicated.
The Cultural Impact of the SoundCloud Era
You can't discuss Kill Yourself Part IV without discussing the platform that birthed it. SoundCloud in 2016 was a wild west. There were no gatekeepers. There were no major label executives telling these kids to clean up their lyrics or normalize their beats.
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$uicideboy$ were the vanguard.
This track, specifically, became a staple of "lo-fi hip hop" playlists before that was even a standardized genre on Spotify. It crossed over. People who didn't even like "trap" were listening to Part IV because of that Beatles sample and the sheer emotional honesty of the lyrics. It’s a gateway drug. I’ve talked to plenty of fans who started with this track and then fell down the rabbit hole of the entire G59 catalog.
Misconceptions and Legal Hurdles
There is a lot of misinformation out there regarding the availability of this song. For a long time, it wasn't on major streaming services. Why? Sampling laws are a nightmare.
Clearing a Beatles sample is essentially impossible for an independent artist. For years, Part IV lived primarily on YouTube re-uploads and SoundCloud. This added to its "forbidden fruit" appeal. It felt like something you had to hunt for. When it finally made its way to more "official" channels, it felt like a victory for the fans.
- Is it part of an album? No, it’s a standalone single.
- Who produced it? DJ BJ.
- What’s the main sample? "I'm So Tired" (The White Album).
People often ask why they stopped the numbered "Kill Yourself" singles after this. Honestly? They grew out of it. They started focusing on more cohesive projects like I Want to Die in New Orleans. But Part IV remains that perfect bridge between their lo-fi roots and their eventual global dominance.
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The Lyrics: More Than Just Gloom
If you look closely at the lyrics, there's a lot of wordplay that gets missed. $crim’s references to his "pills and his potions" aren't just for shock. They are reflections of a very real opioid crisis that was (and is) tearing through the South. By vocalizing it, he gave a lot of listeners a way to process their own struggles.
Ruby’s mentions of "Oddy Nuff" (his alter ego) provide a glimpse into the fractured identity that comes with rapid success. He’s trying to figure out who he is while thousands of people are screaming his name. It’s heavy stuff for a three-minute rap song.
The song ends abruptly. There’s no long fade-out. No grand outro. It just stops. Much like the feelings it describes, it doesn’t offer a neat resolution. It just exists. That lack of closure is exactly why people keep hitting the replay button. It feels unfinished, mirroring the lives of the people who find solace in it.
Actionable Insights for the Modern Listener
If you’re just discovering the $uicideboy$ or this specific track, don't just stop at the audio. There is a whole ecosystem surrounding this era of their career.
- Check the Genius annotations: Some of the New Orleans-specific slang in Part IV is incredibly localized. Understanding the geography of the 7th Ward adds layers to the listening experience.
- Compare it to Part III: Listen to Part III and Part IV back-to-back. You’ll notice the massive leap in vocal recording quality and the shift from "aggressive" to "melancholy."
- Look for live performances: The way they perform this song live has changed over the years. In 2017, it was a high-energy mosh pit anthem. Today, it’s often a communal sing-along that feels more like a therapy session.
- Explore DJ BJ's other work: If you like the production here, look into the other underground producers who were shaping the New Orleans sound during that 2015-2017 window.
The legacy of Kill Yourself Part IV isn't just in the stream counts. It's in the way it gave permission to a whole generation of artists to be "too much." Too sad, too loud, too honest. It’s a cornerstone of the modern "emo-rap" movement, even if the Boy$ themselves might reject that label.
To really understand where underground music is today, you have to look back at the moments where the rules were broken. This track was a sledgehammer to the status quo. It proved that you could sample the biggest band in history, talk about the darkest parts of the human psyche, and still come out on top without a single radio play. That's power. That's G59.