“Witches” is a jagged drum & bass ride that refuses to smooth out the edges. Built almost entirely from fractured vocal stabs and looping chants — “U R Not… Not… Not… Real Witches” — the track lurches like a roller coaster overdue for inspection, every turn rattling and unsteady, every drop daring you to hold on.

The repetition becomes hypnotic, mocking, and accusatory all at once — a mantra directed at impostors who mistake costume for magic. Between the clipped samples and distorted echoes, the message cuts through: real magic is spoken, never written — and you are not real witches, only scavengers taking victims.

The result is a surreal, unsettling dancefloor weapon — less polished banger, more haunted funhouse. It doesn’t glide, it rattles. It doesn’t comfort, it confronts. It’s the sound of a coven collapsing under strobe lights, neon smeared across cracked faces, while the bassline insists again and again: you are not real witches.