The Delhi trap scene has been a sonic adventure. Raw expression of life in the streets, made by people who actually live it.
My journey into it started with Vasudev. His Ghaziabad Mixtape was packed with raw energy and the Delhi Metro Series showcased a perspective that felt fresh and real. Unfortunately, Vasudev faded from the spotlight.
But Delhi trap had other plans. And that’s where the Sector 71 guys emerged. Carrying the torch and redefining what Delhi’s trap sound could be.
Sector 71 guys stood out because they were real. Not “keeping it real” as a brand. Just real. The name “Section 71” itself carries a double meaning: it’s their area code in West Delhi and a reference to a section under the Indian Penal Code. Identity and the law in two numbers. Their sound pulls from the latest generation of American trap, the autotuned cadences of Travis Scott and Playboi Carti, filtered through the vocabulary and lived experience of West Delhi’s streets. Nothing else in DHH sounded like this when they arrived.
And here’s what makes them different from everyone who came before. Earlier DHH artists had to pretend. They had to prove they were influenced by the West. They had to show their credentials, name-drop American rappers, validate their sound by connecting it to something outside of India. Sector 71 doesn’t do any of that. Indian hip-hop had evolved enough by the time they arrived to carry and propel them on its own. The scene was ready. The infrastructure was there. These guys didn’t have to justify their existence by pointing at an American equivalent. They are unapologetically them. West Delhi kids making West Delhi music for anyone who wants to listen. That’s the real sound of the streets.
So who are they?
Ab 17
From the southwest side of Delhi, the part that doesn’t show up on Instagram reels. The kind of area where you can get your wallet, your chains, or your shoes snatched if you’re not paying attention. An absolute legend in the making.
His debut track Gande Ilake Se (From the Bad Area) is the origin story. A kid speaking about how he’s from a rough neighborhood and his dream is to get out. Not romanticizing the streets. Narrating the struggle of rising from a place that was designed to keep you exactly where you are. Ab17’s dichotomy is that he loves where he’s from but he also wants to leave as soon as possible because of the danger. That tension, love and escape in the same breath, is what makes the song honest.
His EP Tez Filam with Sez on the Beat is eight tracks of menacing, booming resolve. Sez described his approach as “blazing yet soothing 808s and a vibrant soundscape.” The beats feel crafted specifically for Ab17, not pulled from a beat tape. They match his street talk with production that’s simultaneously hard and atmospheric. Tracks like 100K Note, MKC, and Colony hit with the kind of indestructible energy that makes you understand why Seedhe Maut discovered this guy and put him on Batti from Nayaab before he even had a solo project out. Ab17 himself said it simply: “Walk in and record. Sez does his magic.”
His pronunciation of words like “कलोनी” (Kaloni instead of Colony) isn’t a mistake or a lack of education. It’s identity. It tells you where he’s from before he even says it. That kind of authenticity doesn’t come from a studio. It comes from a life.
Lil Bhavi
The one who came to rap last. While Lucifer and Bhaskar were already making music, Bhavi was watching from the side. He’s said it himself: “I was late to the party, but once Bhaskar and Lucifer started making music together, I couldn’t help but feel the pull.” Once it pulled him in, it didn’t let go.
While vibing to Ab 17, Lil Bhavi dropped Laal Neeli (Red Blue) together with Ab 17. A banger about the flashing lights of police cars. The beat is dark, the hook is infectious, and the narrative, cops and the streets, is typically found in Western rap. Bhavi brought it to Indian audiences with a perspective that was undeniably local. Indian streets. Indian tension. Same energy, different continent. Dwarka Mor, named after the metro station in their area, takes the local specificity even further. When Bhavi raps about Dwarka, you can hear the station, the crowd, the daily grind of West Delhi life in every bar.
But the moment that defined Bhavi for me was his feature on Seedhe Maut’s Peace of Mind. Think about what that opportunity means. A feature with Seedhe Maut is a dream collab for most DHH artists. It’s a platform to flex everything you have. Most rappers would use every second to prove they belong, pulling out their best bars, their cleanest delivery, their most technical verse.
Bhavi chose to mumble.
Mumble is controversial. Mumble is misunderstood. And Bhavi chose it on the biggest stage he’d been given because that’s his sound and he’s committed to it. He doesn’t care about proving himself to an audience that wants traditional bars. He cares about being himself. That’s not laziness. That’s conviction.
Bhaskar
Bhaskar is Bhavi’s cousin. He was into pop music first before Lucifer pulled him toward hip-hop. The three of them, Ab17, Lucifer, Bhaskar, and eventually Bhavi, would hang out and it was never just hanging out. They’d spend hours sharing music from different artists, writing new verses, reading them aloud to each other. A mini rap workshop every time they met. That’s where the chemistry was built. Not in a studio. In a room, on a floor, passing a notebook around.
Bhaskar is unfiltered, pure, and undeniably crass. His raw, unapologetic style combined with heavy autotune creates a polarizing sound that has pushed Delhi trap into new dimensions.
His art often ventures into controversial territory. Lyrics that include inappropriate references to women. Overly graphic content. It’s provocative, it’s questionable, and it’s not for everyone.
For me, it’s art. I don’t have to agree with every word to recognize that the sound is doing something different. Bhaskar and Lil Bhavi are my favorites from Sector 71. Bhaskar because he’s fearless. Bhavi because he’s committed. Both because they don’t care if you like it.
OG Lucifer
OG Lucifer is where this whole thing started. Before anyone in this crew rapped, Lucifer was already deep in hip-hop culture. Not just the music. The culture. He was into breaking, b-boying, and grew up on 50 Cent. He’s the one who introduced hip-hop to the others, drawing them into the world of beats and rhymes before they knew it would become their life. Every crew has an origin point. Lucifer is Sector 71’s.
He’s probably the best lyricist of the crew and the energy center of the scene. His early tracks like Nycil, Khuraak, and May Be Rap.wav showed a guy who could write with a precision that the others in the crew didn’t have yet. Where Bhavi mumbles and Bhaskar shocks, Lucifer constructs. His bars have layers. His delivery has control. And his transition from b-boy to rapper means he understands hip-hop’s rhythm at a physical level, not just an auditory one. He doesn’t just hear the beat. He feels it the way a dancer does. Every project he touches either becomes an anthem or is melodic to another dimension.
My personal favorite from the Sector 71 guys is Seven One. It tackles serious societal issues over hard-hitting trap beats but what makes it work is the contrast. The production is heavy, aggressive, the kind of beat that makes your head nod involuntarily. And over that aggression, the lyrics are vulnerable.
TNT Beats
The backbone. The Sector 71 movement wouldn’t be what it is without TNT Beats. Every scene needs the person behind the boards who understands the artists well enough to build the world they rap inside. TNT’s production is the emotional core of these tracks. The beats don’t just support the lyrics. They carry them. The chaos, the struggles, the small triumphs of Delhi’s streets, all of it lives in the production as much as in the bars.
Seedhe Maut: The OGs, The Legends, The Mentors
Massive respect to Seedhe Maut for nurturing this talent. They didn’t just collaborate with these artists. They gave them the stage. Tracks like Batti featuring Ab 17, Taakat featuring Lil Bhavi, and the iconic Peace of Mind brought Sector 71 to the forefront.
Seedhe Maut’s dedication to the scene is unparalleled. They’re married to it. Loyal to its roots. Always elevating the culture. The creation of DL91, their label, and the decision to sign these artists wasn’t a business move. It was a belief. A bet that this sound, these voices, this raw unpolished energy from West Delhi had something to say that the world needed to hear.
Delhi’s trap scene has OGs like DRV, Qaab, and Rawal who laid the groundwork. The Sector 71 guys are the new age. Different voices. Different vision. Same streets. And they’re making a difference that’s getting harder to ignore.