And so close to a score to match…

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[5.88]

Will Adams: With a beginning as modest as “I can’t sing, but I wrote you a song,” “6 Words” sets itself up to be a sweet declaration of love with a number-based conceit in the vein of Brian McKnight’s “Back to One.” But if Wretch 32 only says six words, the music says a thousand. The drum ‘n’ bass drop is a surprise, but once it’s there, the song bursts into something beautiful, the aural equivalent of passing lights bending into a single golden beam. Paired with the lyrical simplicity, it’s one of the most heartfelt and sincere dedication songs I’ve ever heard.
[9]

Iain Mew: This is an unexpected turn, Wretch nodding to drum ‘n’ bass but landing in the territory of Bloc Party and Delphic at their heights of shimmering euphoria. He doesn’t really sing or rap, but anchors the whole thing with a sense of peacefulness and certainty that keeps “I found my treasure in you” sounding like a wonderful revelation as the beat whoooooshes in.
[8]

Thomas Inskeep: When it gets all drum ‘n’ bassy in its chorus it tries to take off; in the verses it’s fairly limp and too stripped down. And the lyrics, god; they’re an adult-contemporary Hallmark card. “I found my treasure in you,” really? 
[4]

Jonathan Bradley: Quite frankly, the “I found my treasure in you” line makes him sound more like a horny niffler than anything else, but I’m seduced by the sunrise intimacy of the gently shifting chord pulses. Sincerity brings out the cornball in all of us. The drum ‘n’ bass breaks, however, are a compositional mistake, and an emotional one: some silences don’t need to be filled. 
[7]

Alfred Soto: The contemporary production — hints of R&B, jungle overtones — helps the melody, which Wretch 32 thinks is so “clear.” Too clear. One listen and the song surrendered its mystery. I’m grateful to be alive too.
[6]

Brad Shoup: Dad Drum ‘n’ Bass is now a genre. I’m onboard; I think we’re months away from the first-ever graduation cut that’s sung from the perspective of the parents.
[6]

Scott Mildenhall: It’s a year past album-derailing single-failure o’clock, and that can only mean one thing (other than being dropped): recalibration time. At least, not so much sonically. “Doing OK“‘s overlooking was a shame; it was sweet in much the way of “Don’t Go,” which may have been the point. With that in mind, “6 Words” is taking double over quits: full-on insipid. Wretch sounds so content he actually can’t be bothered telling you. Were it not for the breakbeat it would be terrible, the bare minimum of pulse he attests to.
[5]

Anthony Easton: One word: Meh. Two words: Really, really? Three words: Make this better. Four words: Why do I bother? Five words: Put some muscle in it. Six words: At least this motherfucker can count. 
[2]