Was Weißt Du Schon plunges us into Apache 207’s concrete jungle, a maze of towering Plattenbau blocks where rats eat through walls, dreams drown nightly in cheap Jack Daniel’s, and the white dust on the table is definitely “just plaster.” With vivid street-movie imagery, the rapper contrasts raw survival instincts (a pistol tucked into Nike shorts, eight kilos in a car’s back seat) with stubborn hope: kids still crane their necks toward the stars, still picture themselves behind the wheel of a Caddy or Chevy, still answer buzzing phones that promise love or escape. The chorus repeats like graffiti on grey walls, asking outsiders, “What do you really know about my block?” and reminding listeners that although some neighbors manage to vanish into nicer houses and new lives, most remain caught between crumbling ceilings and dreams too heavy to lift. Apache turns this tight, melodic hip-hop track into a bittersweet postcard from Germany’s overlooked neighborhoods, mixing grit, vulnerability, and a flicker of defiance that keeps the whole block breathing.