[Intro] [Sound of a spray can being shaken vigorously ... click-clack, click-clack. The hiss of a long nozzle spray. A heavy, soulful bassline drops.] "Yo, look at that wall. It was dead yesterday." "The Bombing Squad is in the building... or on the roof." "Hey Yo The City ? ... wake up !" [Verse 1] The city’s looking grey, like a suit and a tie So we climb the iron ladder, reaching for the sky. Got the fat caps ready, bags full of the lead Turning concrete graveyards into something instead. We are The Bombing Squad, kings of the night Stealing the shadows to bring back the light. Every brick is a page, every alley a book Giving something to the people who forgot how to look. No permission needed, no 'please' and no 'thanks' Just the rhythm of the motion and the spray in the ranks. [Chorus] We paint the town red, purple, green and gold Stories of the struggle that are waiting to be told. It’s the street art, the heart, the soul of the block The Bombing Squad moving while the city’s in shock. From the floor to the heavens, we make 'em see This is how we live, this is how we stay free ! [Verse 2] [The beat gets grittier, a faint sound of breaking glass or a siren in the distance] Look at the kids, see 'em smile when they pass Watching colors blooming on the window and the glass. It’s more than a tag, it’s a message in the lines Reading through the ciphers and the hidden signs. We talk about the life, we talk about the truth Giving back the power to the spirits of the youth. It’s the street dance, the b-boy spinning on the floor It's the DJ in the park, giving us some more. Hip-hop is the air, it’s the way that we move Finding our salvation in the pocket of the groove. [Bridge] [Drums cut out. Just a heavy, walking bass and the sound of a subway train screeching.] You can’t wash away the soul. You can’t scrub out the fire. The Bombing Squad... Taking the culture higher. [Outro] [A triumphant horn section plays over a heavy beat. Sounds of the crew laughing and running as a siren fades in.] "Yeah! That burner is huge, son !" "Keep the culture breathing. Keep the walls speaking." "The Bombing Squad... we out." [Sound of a spray can nozzle dying out. Fade to silence.]
