The air was thick with the skunk and the scent of the paint In a town built on history, we weren't lookin' to be saints Keep a lookout for the rollers, for the sirens in the night Dancin' with the shadows, stayin' out of the light Creekside was the bunker, the apartments was the base Every alleyway a memory, every corner a face We weren't lookin' for trouble, just a place to exist In a world that tried to tell us we shouldn't persist.[Bridge](Beat strips back to just the bass and a kick) Remember the sound of the water, hittin' the rocks? While we hid from the world and the judgmental talks? The hiss of the nozzle, the flare of the light? The brotherhood forged in the middle of the night? Yeah, they call it "vandalism," we called it our soul In a town tryin' hard to keep us under control.[Verse 3]Now the bridge is all buffed, and the park's lookin' clean But if you look real close, you can see what I mean The ghosts of our tags, underneath the new layer The prayers of the hopeless, the ultimate slayer We grew up and moved on, or we stayed and we fought But we never forgot what the Granite Creek taught That the realest of stories are written in grime By the ones who were livin' on borrowed time.[Outro]Yeah. Shout out to the 928 originals. The ones who remember the smell of the creek and the spray paint. Before the gentrification hit. Stay gritty, Prescott. (Sound of a final spray can hiss) Done.
