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lirik lagu street art – vankwish

[sctratches: jez]
go, go, go, go, go

[verse 1: shrink]
yo my rhymes aren’t cr*p, climb the ranks, memories of first
raps at the tanks, are coming back, now my vocab’s blank
i can’t stack and cut shanks, gord i k!lled was rank
and i thank god for letting me slap hispanic tanks
that was whacked, i bank dramatic notes, overdose in k!ller
spits i gloat, as i sit i’m ripping this cone i smoke
with the power of four blokes, potential you don’t know
monumental words thrown, diverse v.o.v seeds sown
the sounds drones, the b*st*rd cataclysmic floor master
i rip this four pound weight of the last harvest
i barter, the poor girl’s forefathers and chance smarter
i’d rather my mates time travel in trans*dimensial tatеrs
consequentially the smartеst, and when i spit their lips
dribbling for the farthest, mind bent, burnt and r*t*rded charters

[scratches: jez]

[verse 2: nups]
now i’m shaking these cans in both hands, ready to
bomb it, throwing up but it’s not vomit
i’m covering walls, drains and fences
and anything else, hence the name ‘street art’ been doing it
from the start of my teenage years, latter on
gave it away, for fears of being locked by the cops
rocked my shop, but now i don’t stop
leaving my mark in the dark everywhere that i go
i’m sneakier than the undercover po*po
creeping in the lo*lo, i’m off on another late night mission
i got you wishing you stayed at home in bed
and cuddled up with your favourite teddy instead
i’m breaking bread, what, under a painted sky
you know i’m living hip*hop until the day that i die
[scratches: jez]

[verse 3: scotts]
i slink around dark corners and turn vagabonds into mourners
the streets are a haven for dirty cravings and prolific misbehavings
that i’m passing by, shaving the hair on my t**th to avoid the beat down
for an incident, shall we say that happened down town (sirens)
the tension’s mounting and i’m moving i can feel my heart pounding
desperately searching for a place in which to plant my feet in
the certain occupations of a few black bmws speed by
never paying witness to the way i slide down the sidewalk
in search of the next fork in the road to determine the way the next line in this flow will go
darkness as you know has settled in to combat the overflow of the street light’s insertion into the night
with the slightest turn ahead in the wrong direction, i may be the subject of belconnen’s next inspection
it’s enough to make you nauseous, but i gotta step with caution
remember precaution is the solution to all problems

[verse 4: vic bitter]
(yeeow!)
we be ripping herbs, sippin turps, vision blurred
imprisoned on earth just kickin a verse
for herds and timid nerds watching my limit lurk
the hands and minutes turn past, seconds diminished burnt
after skippin church demons had me sh*ttin t*rds
schizophrenic cursed, visions getting worse
committed from birth, never giving in to jitters and nerves
as i get into the car and i shift into first
drifting through the burbs yo i shift into third
i’m nipping the curbs yo precision preferred
i’m dissed and disturbed but i have wisdom with words
i’m whistling at the birds as they pass by (shrink: ah*aw ah*aw!)
i blast minds with my daft rhymes, it’s half time
entertainment, bent and blazing, raising the stakes, enravin
v.o.v is escaping the domain
and spraining pain on your m*th**f*cking brain
[scratches: jez]

[verse 5: vankwish]
(shrink: three, two, one, zero)
(vankwish: uh, heads up, yeah, heads up)

i’m walking through the valley of the shadow of death
with spray cans in my bag and my crew to my left
and as building tower over our shadows we form a line
and individual thoughts congregate to sp*wn a rhyme
enlightened minds unite in single positive polarity
imaging our street art in this cave man’s gallery
spitting verbal clarity fluid herbals in a cup
i’m in your bloodstream now straight up like papercuts
i’m spraying up a virgin wall with a can of montana in my hand
unplanned eloquent lines and colours are in demand
panned stereo headphones echo my views
as they dive inside my mind i soon align against my crew
step into another realm foreign landscape
dreams make the man, dreams are what the man makes
the world throws me a smile i throw him back a handshake
hand me the last can we’ll see what dan can create

[outro scratches: jez]
go, go, go*go, go

- vankwish

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