Graffiti Wont Die

Yo I'm sitting in my home yard, checking out some pics of my own art Never been docile, four panels this week it's hardly been a slow start But fathom what was next there was no chance I hear my blower go so I answer my bro's like 'Yo do you wanna go Grove Park, I heard it's a dope yard' 'And there is no guards, plus there is a hole marked' 'So getting caught man, I swear theres like no chance' 'Opportunities like these g, they won't last' I put down the phone slow but I walked fast Holding my tins, dust them crisply Take three shots of whiskey swiftly The picky ones station, bunk train slickly No tickets bro, yo so don't ever take the mickey Go from Herne Hill to Bricky then onwards to Vicky Got there in 'bout a jiffy Step off and link them quickly Next to the freshest of chippy's Get some chicken from the chippy then I step on with the mission At the time it was the bestest decision We wanted rep and recognition We got the G, R, A, double F, I, T, I Bust your fist in the sky Cause graffiti won't die and that's no lie We got the G, R, A, double F, I, T, I Bust your fist in the sky Cause graffiti won't die and that's no lie We got the G, R, A, double F, I, T, I Bust your fist in the sky We switch the platform, train screeches in like nails on a black board Step up on the train and catch blams on the back door These are the black marker stains that your fams are taxed for Yo but fuck the tax man I save my cash for a fat draw 10 pints of Stella and a cab to my girl's door But that's another night we're on for the graff war Busting out the styles from the London to retro Holding my tins in a bag set from Tesco No cans take pics Face is wrapped with a vest yo I'm on the tracks, see the train get my paint out Clocked in the first two minutes cause its hot now They're screaming 'Best stop now, before we let the dogs out' One clown gets gripped, I'm like get the fuck out or duck down It's all going nuts now, don't wanna get caught or get munched by a mutts mouth One mate ducks down and hides like no ones there BTP mans come and clocks with a potent stare Don't spot him but see's me duck like I'm Bucky O'Hare Til I'm fucking scarce We got the G, R, A, double F, I, T, I Bust your fist in the sky Cause graffiti won't die and that's no lie We got the G, R, A, double F, I, T, I Bust your fist in the sky Cause graffiti won't die and that's no lie We got the G, R, A, double F, I, T, I Bust your fist in the sky I see sick fences, I climb six feet and slip I'm at my whit's end Spike in the limb, I rip it off then I descend down the other side of the fence To get rid of dem, BTP men that are militant He clocks a gate bro So I'm running up as fast as I can to the main road I strain and I ache heal but still I've got pace bro And love for this dark art Straight in the road and nearly hit by a fast car I'm running, bruv I'm running, I don't know these ends But I'm running I feel like my lucks up and I need to conjure suttin So I dust to a block of flats see the doors locked And im like fuck bruv, that is brass So I duck round the back and lay low like a gutter rat And didn't mutter jack, but still he comes running back So I, merk him at this perfect place Dirty words of froth come splurting out his girly face Swinging for my legs cuz, I'm running out of pace Third swipe hits me, I'm down and I've hurt my face Jumps on my back and holds me down like he's found his prey Elbow to my body and his gun snaps my shoulder blade Screaming in my ear son, 'You better count your days!' True story! This is Fliptrix, Big up Verb-T on production Hold tight all of the graffiti warriors Fuck btp