Fliptrix - Graffiti Won't Die lyrics

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 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 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 hit's 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!