Spraypaint & Inkpens

## Song by Fort Minor featuring Lupe Fiasco and Ghostface Killah

"**Spraypaint & Inkpens**" is a song by Fort Minor, released as the eighth track from their mixtape *We Major* (2006). It features American rappers Lupe Fiasco and Ghostface Killah. It samples audio from Charlie Ahearn's 1983 hip hop film, *Wild Style*.

## Lyrics

**Lyrics**
[Refrain: Lupe Fiasco, *Mike Shinoda*]

Uh, spray paint and ink pens

I use to write in every color I think in

To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in

Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I

*Yeah, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest for you this evening*

*Ghost, you ready?*

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

Yo, I verbally paint pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller

This about a young boy dealin' with the older fellas

Promised him the lives he seen on TV

He ran packs across town like rhyme CDs

And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and Reeboks

Stackin' too much loot to squeeze in a shoe box

Saving, he promised his Mom a crib in Atlanta

And his pops got killed through debt, he was a dealer

So he staged jazz, fox jump off the suit cases

No more cross-town, now he's crossin' them states and

Seeing new faces, not knowing who to trust

So when the door kicked open they screamed, "This is a bust"

"Is it a set up?" it seemed funny, a scuffle broke out

He got hit, dropped the cases spittin' blood out of his mouth

He walked four blocks to die, trying to survive

And now all that's left is his mom screamin', "God why?"

[Refrain: Lupe Fiasco, *Mike Shinoda*]

Uh, spray paint and ink pens

I use to write in every color I think in

To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in

Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I

*Yeah, yeah*

[Verse 2: Mike Shinoda]

Let me begin by sayin'...

*Shut the fuck up!*

Let my begin by sayin' I don't think this man knew what he had in store

He opened the door and found the bag under the floor

Not a peep while he's workin' the lock

Get the flame, aim, pop open the box and take off

Out the back of the pawn shop

Scoping the lot, hoping the cops hadn't seen the plates on his car

He felt like he been hustling so hard

Like a demon he pumped a cold heart

Play it cool like Humphrey Bogart

Put the rings on his chain attached by both parts

He did the drop, one ring in a bag

Envelope, all the money he had

Left the money and the ring in a slow exhale

Two weeks went by, got a box in the mail

In the box was a bullet made of gold

Melted down from the ring, recast with two rings and a band

And he stared at it, sitting in the palm of his hand

And sat down next to a picture that sat on the nightstand

It was his wife in the picture on his side

With the ring on the finger on the week that she died

As he looked in the reflection at those eyes so red

He put the bullet in a gun and put it right in his head

Like that

[Refrain: Lupe Fiasco, *Mike Shinoda*]

Uh, spray paint and ink pens

I use to write in every color I think in

To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in

Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I

*Yeah*

Yeh

*Fiasco!*

[Verse 3: Lupe Fiasco]

He knew that he didn't have enough power in his thrusters

To muster warp 5

Plus if he pushed it the fuel cells could rupture

Then they would die

Then the galaxy would suffer but he knew he had to try

But he couldn't risk it

Put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it

And told her goodbye

She started to cry

But he knew if he could distract 'em, he could buy her some time

And she could make it out alive

Turn the suit around and got prepared for the stand off

Space mine had blew one of the hands off

Damaged laser cannons and he got the system jammed

And he faced the whole fleet, blood seeping through his teeth

The final saga in the Seven Planet Wars

Unsheathed the sword and then he charged forward

His eyes flashed behind the cracked cockpit glass

He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a blast like...

[Outro: Lupe Fiasco, *Mike Shinoda*]

Uh, spray paint and ink pens

I use to write in every color I think in

To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in

Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I

*Yeah. Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a Fort Minor production*

*Ghostface! Fiasco!*

Uh, spraypaint and ink pens