Mic drop, hear the city pulse,
Got a beat in my chest, under neon lights, we convulse.
Ghetto dreams painted on these crumbling walls,
Raw truth flows like water through the way life calls.
I’m the flow king ruling streets where shadows roam,
With street wisdom, I navigate this urban dome.
Concrete soul, I breathe the air of survival,
Every hustle, every struggle, it's part of my recital.
Echoes of the past, whispers in the night,
Voices of the lost, searching for the light.
We rise from the ashes, relentless and bold,
Each bar I spit, it’s a story retold.
Concrete jungles, where hope is a seed,
Planting dreams in the cracks where they bleed.
Life’s a canvas, paint it vivid and true,
Every stroke a testament of what we’ve been through.
They said we wouldn’t make it, but watch us now,
With a mic in my hand, I’ll show you how.
From the corners of the block to the global stage,
Each line is a chapter, each verse a new page.
Dreamers in the hood, chasing visions untold,
With unity and grit, we’re breaking the mold.
So when I drop the mic, know it’s more than a sound,
It’s the heartbeat of the city, where dreams abound.
Through the struggles and strife, we rise and ascend,
With street wisdom our guide, the message we send.
Living life unapologetically whole,
In every whispered secret, you’ll find a concrete soul.
Now as the echoes fade, let the truth be known,
We’re the architects of fate, in this world we’ve grown.
So lift your voice, let the story unfold,
In the city of dreams, with a concrete soul.
Hip Hop
Mic drop, City pulse, Ghetto dreams, Raw truth, Street wisdom, Flow king, Concrete soul
Hip Hop
Mic drop, City pulse, Ghetto dreams, Raw truth, Street wisdom, Flow king, Concrete soul