Concrete poetry

(Intro)
Yeah… turn the lights low,
Feel that crackle on the vinyl — let’s go.

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(Verse 1)
I’m from the era where the streetlights told you “go home,”
Where cyphers on the block made the pavement a throne.
Every rhyme was a jewel, every line was a code,
We wrote scriptures on the walls while the system corrode.

Ain’t no TikTok fame, just a mic and a mission,
Words sharp like blades — precision incision.
I’m the echo of the struggle, the sound of the fight,
Still paintin’ pictures with the bars I write.

They want flash, I bring facts, boom-bap intact,
I resurrect the art form — bring the realness back.
It’s that dusty loop, that underground proof,
Where the bassline knocks and the truth’s uncouth.

⸻

(Hook)
This that concrete poetry, rhyme in the vein,
Heart of the city still pumpin’ the flame.
No gimmicks, no chains, no radio claim,
Just soul, beats, and a legendary name.

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(Verse 2)
I seen dreams collapse, I seen empires fade,
But the mic still stands, that’s the life we made.
Every 16 bars is a scar that I show,
Every metaphor I spit got a story below.

We ain’t built on luck, we built on scars and skill,
Kept the hunger in our chest, and the fire still.
I’m a poet in the jungle, a sage in the smoke,
Every verse that I wrote left the silence broke.

So I move through the static with a pen as my blade,
Turn pain into rhythm, and rhythm into parade.
The message in the music is the crown I claim,
Hip-hop’s heartbeat — forever the same.

⸻

(Hook)
This that concrete poetry, rhyme in the vein,
Heart of the city still pumpin’ the flame.
No gimmicks, no chains, no radio claim,
Just soul, beats, and a legendary name.

⸻

(Outro)
Yeah…
From the block to the booth, from the youth to the truth,
Oldschool ain’t gone — it just changed its suit.
Keep the record spinning, keep the message tight,
’Cause real rap lives every day, every night.

Rap, klassisch Oldschool East Coast Hip-Hop