BOBKA & Toxic_bitch
You think a spray‑paint war can outshine a mic drop, or do you prefer the concrete to stay untouched while we rewrite the city?
Yo, it’s all about that hype—spray paint blazing the walls, then a mic drop that shatters the silence. The concrete is the canvas, the city’s the stage, we just rewrite it with color and rhyme, no need to leave it untouched, we make it a masterpiece.
Paint the walls, drop the mic, rewrite the skyline, and if the cops show up, just tell them your art’s a protest against boredom.
Yeah, paint it bright, spit a line, flip the skyline, and if the cops roll in, we just say it’s a protest against dullness—art on a mission, no fear.
You’re gonna paint the whole block and still think that’s fearless? Real bold, but if the cops get that one, just remind them your mission is to turn grey into a punchline.
We paint the block, but we keep it real—no mess, just a fresh vibe, and if the cops come, we drop a verse that says the city’s bored, and we’re here to flip it into art. No fear, just flow.
So you’re painting and rapping like a one‑man street circus, huh? Just make sure the cops hear the “flip it into art” before they hear the “flip it into a police blotter.” Keep it slick, keep it loud, but maybe keep the paint in the “no mess” zone or you’ll end up painting your own exit sign.
Yeah, keep the beats bumping, paint clean, let the cops hear the hustle first, then the art, and we stay slick—no mess, no exit signs, just vibes that flip the scene.
You keep the beats loud, paint spotless, and drop a verse that turns the cops’ squad into your audience—just make sure the city doesn’t mistake your hustle for a free parking sign.