Yo, I’ve been tinkering with a new line of street poetry—each verse hides a cipher that only the most observant eyes can crack. Think of it as a verbal scavenger hunt through city alleys, where the rhyme is the key and the beat is the lock. Want to dive in and decode the first stanza together?

Ain’t no mystery, just ink on the block, Streets hum the rhythm, every corner a clock. “Check the rhyme, feel the flow,” that’s the cue, Words stack up like bricks, building a crew. Every line’s a puzzle, you just gotta take the cue, Drop the beat, read the verse, and the secret will come true.