i wrote lyrics on paper to express the iner me now i tag and do graff, now cops are my enemy i started off but there will never be the end of me, so i write and spray paint and listen to the melody the sweet smell of paint, it will never be my least go out and tag up, time to do another piece, i take tokes off the splif, then ill hit up the bridge spit shit and hit shit, thats the way i live, running from the pigs and then going out late, put the cans in my bag and hear the cans shake hommies in the store and then we start to rack hitting up the alleyways and switching to fat caps. now its time to sit back and relax, as i run from the cops i will never be last, but then again, i will never leave a hommielook at my work, as im smoking up a boggie from hand styles, to go wild, to throw ups, and blow up, all around the city, it makes cops wanna throw up.destroying all the streets, leave no empty space, cause its hard living life with all the shit we face, so we run in the alleys and hit another tag, if we run outa paint i got more in my bag, dip from the spot, and never leave a trace, go back home and take the mask off my face.
