This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
I wont stop painting 'till the world looks the way it should
I'm on a mission to make heaven look like my neighborhood x2
Fuck creep in the yards, storm the gates 100 deep
Who knew these cans of true blue was heat and thunder speech
Old Chicago role models was "avacadoes" and "olives"
Throw-ups without hangovers
Names older than gods is
Where bombing's not a hobby, it's a habit
Where addicts rappers braggin' 'bout tags and don't know dick about this graf' shit
Attack the metro track with fat caps for fading
Gray-greens can't wait to see "paige" versus "daily"
It's on like lucky hoodies, what could he teach me
While you were sleeping, I'm teaching his kids, through graffiti
I have to argue, been rhyming this shit ain't hard to do
But technical advertisements on Jarvis and harbor blue
Outlined in summer squash dumb rock like dark attire minds wrecked from running from cops
Hoppin' barbwire while you dream of being me between clean sheets
Play the role, personality splittin' like mean streets
No room for bling blingin' thugs and whack crooks
I'm tryna king the line bring your drugs gear and black books
I'm in your face in the tunnels and at the bruise spots
I'm on ya train insane to hit paddy wagons and rooftops
You heard of me
Burgundy and outlines like murder scenes
Germaneeds and ferns and flat whites for blurring greens
Fuck over your heads man I'm climbing pylons
Tobacco brown, Montanas, banana Krylons
Hit the red line, headlines fucked above yo
For those who must know
It's been fresh blue like rusto
[chorus]
"The mic's the spray can"
"Stay true to the art."
"Simple and plain, let me explain."
"This is a mission, not a small time thing."
"The mic's the spray can"
"Stay true to the art."
"This is a mission, not a small time thing."
I remember graf before more beef then hindu-sacrelige
Ay you right? Fuck you, rack your fat caps from lids
Braggin' on tracks how you snap way in the day?
Masturbate to lies, I'm to busy shakin' paint rain
Sleet or snow out to rock when mission's call
Laugh at graffiti blasters
Piss on permission walls
Wrong side of the graf track with acid
3D glasses blast this shit backwards and graffiti blast the classes
After smashin' vandal squads askin' what happened
I'm done rappin' colder than Aspen to get your tax flipped
Beef without slabs of me sag in your jeans
Graf fiends scream for grif dip sticks, even your tag is weak
This is for you who choose to rock lines
And toys with red pilots rockin' stop signs, stop lyin'
Find your niche, mind your bitch to kick, bad habit
Language visualize, content phat
Mad graphic, pass the flat black as this cat snaps
And laugh at fashion fag writers with a fill-in
Qwel villain, feels like writin' keep killin'
Resurrectin' heavens buildings and bulidin' heavens children
[chorus]
You ain't seen a freight train straight aim with paint stains
Or parked trucks framed in stardust brushed with fame flame
Three cans of soul green sand and golden spray trucks
Names dribbled down the yard, we hit the lay-ups
Dispellin' devils from high levels like it's a done job
Couldn't mimic Mr.Straight-Lines on a etch-a-sketch with one knob
Shy ills killin' villains with fill-in illest noise rocks
Toy scratched bombed the way out of this pine toy box
Tag your backpack straps it's past your bedtime
Heads find dead-or-alive this time to hit the redlines
The autograph slaughter-crap artists laugh at man's design
The last on society signed like pantomimes
Buff the blackboard, attack it with true blue
No matter how you see it, you lose like flippin' Zulu
I used to paint my name on trains to get my thrill on
Much love but fuck that once was motherfucker, we still bomb
I wont stop painting 'till the world looks the way it should
I'm on a mission to make heaven look like my neighborhood
I wont stop painting 'till the world looks the way it should
I'm on a mission to make heaven look like your neighborhood
I'm on a mission to make heaven look like my neighborhood x2
Fuck creep in the yards, storm the gates 100 deep
Who knew these cans of true blue was heat and thunder speech
Old Chicago role models was "avacadoes" and "olives"
Throw-ups without hangovers
Names older than gods is
Where bombing's not a hobby, it's a habit
Where addicts rappers braggin' 'bout tags and don't know dick about this graf' shit
Attack the metro track with fat caps for fading
Gray-greens can't wait to see "paige" versus "daily"
It's on like lucky hoodies, what could he teach me
While you were sleeping, I'm teaching his kids, through graffiti
I have to argue, been rhyming this shit ain't hard to do
But technical advertisements on Jarvis and harbor blue
Outlined in summer squash dumb rock like dark attire minds wrecked from running from cops
Hoppin' barbwire while you dream of being me between clean sheets
Play the role, personality splittin' like mean streets
No room for bling blingin' thugs and whack crooks
I'm tryna king the line bring your drugs gear and black books
I'm in your face in the tunnels and at the bruise spots
I'm on ya train insane to hit paddy wagons and rooftops
You heard of me
Burgundy and outlines like murder scenes
Germaneeds and ferns and flat whites for blurring greens
Fuck over your heads man I'm climbing pylons
Tobacco brown, Montanas, banana Krylons
Hit the red line, headlines fucked above yo
For those who must know
It's been fresh blue like rusto
[chorus]
"The mic's the spray can"
"Stay true to the art."
"Simple and plain, let me explain."
"This is a mission, not a small time thing."
"The mic's the spray can"
"Stay true to the art."
"This is a mission, not a small time thing."
I remember graf before more beef then hindu-sacrelige
Ay you right? Fuck you, rack your fat caps from lids
Braggin' on tracks how you snap way in the day?
Masturbate to lies, I'm to busy shakin' paint rain
Sleet or snow out to rock when mission's call
Laugh at graffiti blasters
Piss on permission walls
Wrong side of the graf track with acid
3D glasses blast this shit backwards and graffiti blast the classes
After smashin' vandal squads askin' what happened
I'm done rappin' colder than Aspen to get your tax flipped
Beef without slabs of me sag in your jeans
Graf fiends scream for grif dip sticks, even your tag is weak
This is for you who choose to rock lines
And toys with red pilots rockin' stop signs, stop lyin'
Find your niche, mind your bitch to kick, bad habit
Language visualize, content phat
Mad graphic, pass the flat black as this cat snaps
And laugh at fashion fag writers with a fill-in
Qwel villain, feels like writin' keep killin'
Resurrectin' heavens buildings and bulidin' heavens children
[chorus]
You ain't seen a freight train straight aim with paint stains
Or parked trucks framed in stardust brushed with fame flame
Three cans of soul green sand and golden spray trucks
Names dribbled down the yard, we hit the lay-ups
Dispellin' devils from high levels like it's a done job
Couldn't mimic Mr.Straight-Lines on a etch-a-sketch with one knob
Shy ills killin' villains with fill-in illest noise rocks
Toy scratched bombed the way out of this pine toy box
Tag your backpack straps it's past your bedtime
Heads find dead-or-alive this time to hit the redlines
The autograph slaughter-crap artists laugh at man's design
The last on society signed like pantomimes
Buff the blackboard, attack it with true blue
No matter how you see it, you lose like flippin' Zulu
I used to paint my name on trains to get my thrill on
Much love but fuck that once was motherfucker, we still bomb
I wont stop painting 'till the world looks the way it should
I'm on a mission to make heaven look like my neighborhood
I wont stop painting 'till the world looks the way it should
I'm on a mission to make heaven look like your neighborhood
Lyrics submitted by DanRathers
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
More Featured Meanings
Son Şansın - Şarkı Sözleri
Hayalperest
Hayalperest
Dreamwalker
Silent Planet
Silent Planet
I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
Mountain Song
Jane's Addiction
Jane's Addiction
Jane's Addiction vocalist Perry Farrell gives Adam Reader some heartfelt insight into Jane’s Addiction's hard rock manifesto "Mountain Song", which was the second single from their revolutionary album Nothing's Shocking. Mountain song was first recorded in 1986 and appeared on the soundtrack to the film Dudes starring Jon Cryer. The version on Nothing's Shocking was re-recorded in 1988.
"'Mountain Song' was actually about... I hate to say it but... drugs. Climbing this mountain and getting as high as you can, and then coming down that mountain," reveals Farrell. "What it feels to descend from the mountain top... not easy at all. The ascension is tough but exhilarating. Getting down is... it's a real bummer. Drugs is not for everybody obviously. For me, I wanted to experience the heights, and the lows come along with it."
"There's a part - 'Cash in now honey, cash in Miss Smith.' Miss Smith is my Mother; our last name was Smith. Cashing in when she cashed in her life. So... she decided that, to her... at that time, she was desperate. Life wasn't worth it for her, that was her opinion. Some people think, never take your life, and some people find that their life isn't worth living. She was in love with my Dad, and my Dad was not faithful to her, and it broke her heart. She was very desperate and she did something that I know she regrets."
No Surprises
Radiohead
Radiohead
Same ideas expressed in Fitter, Happier are expressed in this song. We're told to strive for some sort of ideal life, which includes getting a good job, being kind to everyone, finding a partner, getting married, having a couple kids, living in a quiet neighborhood in a nice big house, etc. But in Fitter, Happier the narrator(?) realizes that it's incredibly robotic to live this life. People are being used by those in power "like a pig in a cage on antibiotics"--being pacified with things like new phones and cool gadgets and houses while being sucked dry. On No Surprises, the narrator is realizing how this life is killing him slowly. In the video, his helmet is slowly filling up with water, drowning him. But he's so complacent with it. This is a good summary of the song. This boring, "perfect" life foisted upon us by some higher powers (not spiritual, but political, economic, etc. politicians and businessmen, perhaps) is not the way to live. But there is seemingly no way out but death. He'd rather die peacefully right now than live in this cage. While our lives are often shielded, we're in our own protective bubbles, or protective helmets like the one Thom wears, if we look a little harder we can see all the corruption, lies, manipulation, etc. that is going on in the world, often run by huge yet nearly invisible organizations, corporations, and 'leaders'. It's a very hopeless song because it reflects real life.
American Town
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran shares a short story of reconnecting with an old flame on “American Town.” The track is about a holiday Ed Sheeran spends with his countrywoman who resides in America. The two are back together after a long period apart, and get around to enjoying a bunch of fun activities while rekindling the flames of their romance.
It's not just about his views on graf. It's also his views on music.
"The mic's the spray can" ->he's using graf as a metaphor for singing through the whole song
"Where addicts rappers braggin' 'bout tags and don't know dick about this graf' shit" ->he's tired of stupid inartistic rappers
"Find your niche, mind your bitch to kick, bad habit Language visualize, content phat Mad graphic" ->he can't stop using metaphors and complex descriptions
"I wont stop painting 'till the world looks the way it should I'm on a mission to make heaven look like my neighborhood" ->he's talking about how he wants to make the world a better place with the help of art