♦ Fliptrix - Graffiti Wont Die | Текст песни

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• ♦ Fliptrix
• Graffiti Wont Die

(Verse 1)

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's next, there was no chance
I hear my blower go, so I answer, my bro’s like
‘Yo, do you wanna go Grove Park, heard it’s a dope yard
And there is no guards, plus there's a hole marked
So getting caught man, yeah, I swear there's like no chance
Opportunities like these be, they won't last’
Put down the phone slow, but I rose fast
Holding my tins, dust them crisply
Take three slugs of whiskey
…..? Swiftly, take a cab
Left the Picky, one station, bunk train slickly
No tickets, bro, yo, so don’t ever take the micky
Go from Herne Hill to Bricky, then onwards to Vicky
Got there in ‘bout a jiffy
Step off and I 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

(Hook x2)
We got G, R, A, double F, I, T, I
Bust your fist in the sky
'Cause graffiti won't die and that’s no lie

(Verse 2)
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 enough of that, 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 cam takes 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 it's 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 muts mouth
One mate ducks down and hides like no one's there
BTP man comes, clocks with a potent stare
Don’t spot him, but sees me duck like I’m Bucky O’Hare
'Till I’m fucking scarce

(Hook x3)

We got G, R, A, double F, I, T, I
Bust your fist in the sky
'Cause graffiti won't die and that’s no lie

(Verse 3)

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 them, 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 luck's up and I need to conjure suttin
So I dust to a block of flats, see the door's locked
I'm like, 'Fuck, bruv, that is brass'
So I duck round the back and lay low like a gutter rat
I 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, 'cause 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!’

(Speaking)
True story!
This is Fliptrix, Big up Verb-T on production
Hold tight all of the graffiti warriors
FUCK BTP!!!!

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