Yeah.
Uh, what?
Mic in hand,
midnight strikes,
spitting lightning bolts.
Slowly a ghost in the street, moving silenced,
see the thoughts,
words sharper than a broken bottle.
Alleyways echo, that pack full of dreams,
pockets got the peso.
Slagger stepping,
poetry unfolds,
urban marble tapestry.
Rhyme scheme intricate,
woven tight,
no clumsily.
Breaking down the beat like a cypher in a bodega.
Eyes wide awake, singing out, true mega-sato.
Flipping quarters,
heads clash like frat house scenarios.
Cosmic juggles,
verse raining,
miracle monsoons,
no radios.
Cops lurking,
shadows round the bend,
tightrope walk,
street life curriculum.
Life diploma, no swans off.
Messed up knuckles, tussling with tomorrow.
Old thin things,
pumping lines of borrowed sorrow.
Huns plod, metaphorical dexterity ladder.
Hip-hop's pulse and rhythm,
our collective mad hatter.
Skyline graffiti, spray cans to the rhythm.
Soul speak, drum beat, heart skip, and ascism.
Echoing the streets, the march of the faithful.
The first leading anthems,
the voice of the playful.
The voice of the playful.
First leading anthems, the voice of the playful.
The voice of the playful.
First leading anthems, the voice of the playful.
Script the anthem, a street-borne fable.
Neighborhood lore, legends around table.
Block rocket, wolf prints, gold on pavement.
Noise color spectrum, city's own statement.
Grip tight the mic, call me next-gen Vandal.
Poetic pyrotechnics, flames caught, no scandal.
Beat stuck, busted pipes, urban music box.
Hip-hop, boombox, we're riding TikTok.
Every line of heartbeat,
pulse sync,
old painted wall.
Infinite libraries, math and metaphors, the law.
Contestant invalid deus,
crawling lyrics and dust.
Another chapter, city spark, never hush.
Skyline graffiti, spray cans to the rhythm.
Soul speak, drum beat, heart skip, and ascism.
Echoing the streets, the march of the faithful.
First leading anthems, the voice of the playful.
First leading anthems, the voice of the playful.