... for my crew that is!

... for my crew that is!

I remember when texts inspired
Me to wear techs and wires to wreck a havoc
Without leash on the streets with special tactics
And when shit hit the fan, we split in advance
Stick ups with fistuls of cans to be left in silence
My dilated pupils blasted viewpoints, sketched the highlights
And left the fight night blessed with lettered freight tanks
The smell of aerosol blessed from can control
Creeping through dew and midsts to text in capitals
Now spex's the aftermath, a matter of fact, crafted in black
Over concrete walls in social parts with patterned patters
The beauty of destruction, built in ludacris ruckus
Mutulate walls with beautiful remarks to pay my crew with hommage
Hiding every clicking backpack in the warddrobe from Calle sessions
Meeting up the next day to discuss, photograph and practice letters
Young days evolved into actual lessons
And the only thing I can do is to look back, remember
With the thought of gettin back in business next semester
shiie