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=gRaFfItI aNgElZ=
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I wrote a poem a long time ago called "Graffiti Angels." It was about decadence, poverty, and how people simply struggle to survive. This song is based on that poem. Featuring Chali 2NA, another one of my favorite underground artists.
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Name: Jeremy Blum Nicknames: Blummer, JB, JAB, Shoryu Crew: Nerds While AZN Nationality: Half White, Half Asian (you figure out the exact mix) Biggest Musical Influences - Mike Shinoda, Tiger JK (of Drunken Tiger), Tablo (of Epik High) I started rapping in 2003 years ago, mainly because I really loved hip-hop and wanted to try creating my own musical works. I quickly found out that I had a knack for it, and I also discovered that I loved making music and sharing it with the world. I originally began rapping with my crew, Nerds While AZN (if you haven't already, you should check our group site out @ soundclick.com/nerdswhileazn) but since then I've mostly done solo work and have finished three mixtapes on my own. I hope you'll enjoy my music, find something that you think sounds tight, and come away with a few favorites. Thanks.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Hip Hop General
Author
Blummer feat. Chali 2NA
Uploaded
January 19, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB • 128 kbps • 3:34
Lyrics
Blummer feat. Chali 2NA - =gRaFfItI aNgElZ= (Blummer) residents of the black sky down by the dock graffiti angels sprayed up over the block wings of concrete, robes of newspaper halos of streetlight that refuse to taper their harps are the twangs of metal and chain against pavement in neverending rain down the street, playing an eerie tune ghostly illuminations, a pale moon lying back on their perches, high above all witness to Adam's land after his fall absorbed in the lives of women and men who cascade across the streets in tribes of ten facing each other in alleys and corners bodies mangle and fall, discovered only by mourners blood runs through the street, down drains and sewers bystanders screech behind panes and closed doors millions of tribes in their violence end short lives, cutting them in silence as children stand watching, boys and girls infested with poverty, cold steel burls no mom or dad, their homes are alleys that they try to imagine as gold spring valleys but stricken by reality, beaten to dispair they steal for a living and survive without care the angels look at the river, pallid and gray at the hoards of beggars lined up, trying to pray in makeshift groups of twos and some threes by dumpster fires to keep warm in the freeze rubbing their palms, making breaths hoping to God that they will get swift, sudden deaths thinking of better times, wishing for the days when life was more than just a bitter urban maze the angels close their eyes, move their heads south at the lone figure sitting by the bay's mouth his hair rustles in the breeze, over his face welts on his arms, cheeks swollen with mace he stares up at the moon humming the melody of a forgotten tune they say life is sweet, and hell is hot but when life is despair, then what more do you got than to reside in the sky, down by the dock as an angel sprayed as graffiti over the block (Chali 2NA) i'm here at this podium talking, this ceremonial offering's dedicated to urban dysfunctional offspring what's happening? city governments are eternally napping trapped in greedy convenants causing urban collapsing bullets that scar souls with dark holes get more then your car stole, some hearts be blacker than charcoal for real, this society's deprivation depends not on all our differences but the separation within no preparation is made, limited aid, and minimum wage living in a tenement cage where rent isn't paid tragedy within a parade the darkness overspreads like a permanent plague i'm the forgotten
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