How drill music was weaponised by the legal system in England
Moral panics have always surrounded hip-hop, ever since its earliest days. Conservative types have always wrung their hands and fretted about the form’s allegedly adverse effects upon young people.
But while that is a story as old as hip-hop itself, the situation seems to have gotten even worse in England over recent years. Young people have literally been convicted of serious crimes because of how UK drill and its proponents have been characterised.
UK drill is an offshoot of the wider drill subgenre, which originated in Chicago. Like its American counterpart, UK drill deals in gritty, violent themes and tales of crime and gangsterism. It is hard-hitting, dark music that often depicts a vividly bloody way of life.
Proponents of UK drill might argue that the subgenre reflects the realities that urban youths in the UK find themselves in. The music is an expression of the struggles they face as young, poor, and very often racialised communities subject to discrimination and poverty. It does not cause violence but rather reflects the violence already occurring.
That is not how the British state and legal system has tended to understand drill. As instances of knife-related crime have soared in London in recent years, drill has been cited as a cause of the trend. It has even been incorporated into legal cases, with lyrics from drill songs being used as evidence to convict rappers of serious crimes.
In 2025 it was reported by The Guardian that appeals against convictions secured with the help of music lyrics had soared over the previous few years, since drill had become popular in the UK. Drill songs and their videos were used in these instances to convict people of crimes as serious as murder.
The problem, opponents argue, is that stereotyping may impact these cases. If a young, non-white person raps violent lyrics, it does not necessarily follow that they actually do violence themselves. Using their lyrics as evidence can paint a hazy, often inaccurate picture that suggests otherwise.
Ademola Adedeji was one of ten Black teenagers convicted of planning to murder or seriously harm someone they believed had killed their friend. It was later found that he had been wrongfully identified in a drill music video, which had formed a part of the case against him. His conviction was later overturned, but only after he had spent 1,181 days in jail. He had been only 17 when he was convicted.
The miscarriage of justice against Adedeji has been described as “unjust and racist” by community groups, but it is not unique. Others, too, have been convicted on the basis of evidence drawn from drill music, and campaigners worry that young people are being treated unfairly on the basis of artistic expression.