spraycan stories is the jam's title

reminiscing on many a days of being a writer

getting chased raided but mostly getting shit painted

a pain in society's ass 'cause they hate it

spraycan stories is the jam's title

reminiscing on many a days of being a writer

getting chased raided but mostly getting shit painted

ay yo graff can't be faded



a couple of years ago me and my man

went out of town to rack up some cans

'cause shit it got hot here in västerås

it was time to dress up in our best racking clothes

in my jacket i could take eight cans

if shit was smooth four more in my pants

that adds up to twelve so i guess you could tell

we had high expertasions that shit would go well

we went to catch the train at the train station

we didn't pay the fare we only paid attention

to avoid any situation of confrontation

with the law

and i saw nothing that arose my suspicion

so the mission was on 

we soon reached our destination

didn't know what we was facin'or what was waitin'

for us - as we entered in the gas station

took a look around everything seemed easy

matter of fact shit was so cool that we was freezin'

we saw the cans and they had us made open

had no id an undercover was scopin

checking us out from behind this shelf

as me and nob started racking up as hell

after a while i had to get out to empty out my jacket

so i could come back in and do some more racking

then i saw this man in the corner of my eye

i started walking faster he started to jog

so i ran frantically and threw away my burden

he was shoutin' "stop him" like i commited murder

but nobody got in my way though i guess i was lucky

he hopped inside the car and drove up right next to me

hopped up beside me screamed "i got yoy my friend"

well i kept on running and got ahead again

he kept on chasin' me for like a kilometer

it was killing me unless i had a chance to take a breather

either i get busted or i find a place to hide

the first building on my left i dipped inside

mad tired but i made it up the stairs

picked out the window at the top and believe me i got scared

when i saw him walking by on the street beneath

i was breathin' heavily and hurting from my knees

please don't let this motherfucker catch me

i thought to myself cause my parents won't be happy

when he entered the buildin' next to mine i thought i was safe

then he came back out and headed straight for my hiding place

i thought fuck now i'm stuck like a mouse

in a mouse trap manifested as this house

i couldn't get out i rang the doorbell hopin'

someone would open and let me in without questions

but nobody was home and that was only to the better

'cause if someone had opened the door the undercover

would have heard and the noise and then come up there

but instead he stayed downstairs and just stared

up the stair waitin' then went on his way

but i stayed and everytime i heard a car accelerate

or hit the breaks i thought the cops were comin to causerie

me and set me straight for the grand theft

but nothing happened for like an hour so i left

for the train station my man was there waitin'

i saw something was goin' on so i asked him is something wrong

and i couldn't believe my ears when i heard him respond

word is born that undercover svan

grabbed me instead of you and made me pay a fine

so this rhyme is dedicated to my man

nob i got mad love from the sub to the above

for you 'cause you kept your mouth shut when

they wanted my name now that's a true friend

so when you need help with anything any day

just give me a call i'll come over right away



spraycan stories is the jam's title

reminiscing on many a days of being a writer

getting chased raided but mostly getting shit painted

a pain in society's ass 'cause they hate it

spraycan stories is the jam's title

reminiscing on many a days of being a writer

getting chased raided but mostly getting shit painted

ay yo graff can't be faded