HELLO - NTS

Over the past year this kid has really gotten my attention whenever I'm back home. Graffiti on the walls stretched out like it should be. Stolen from somebody.

WE ALL WE GOT Issue 5. - Peco is too high

"WE ALL WE GOT" The Return To Real Rap. Coming Soon.

My Favorite Local Writers of the Moment List Pt. 2

This kid has without a doubt has brought a refreshing look to graffiti in this state. I know he's young and hopefully far from done evolving, but time will tell. For right now these few shots I pulled off of BS will have to do. In terms of his influences... if you know graffiti some of the letters are easy to see. He has good structure in his letters and has some heavy MSK and HM influences that are definitely good people to look up to. His hand is booty, but it's early in the game. Let's hope he doesn't burn out and keeps burning. One.

Above: Euro plays the drip well.

My Favorite Local Writers of the Moment List

Man is this going to be controversial, but one of the writers with the most style in Delaware is BANG easily. I started noticing this kid a few years ago and watched him develop all the whist being overshadowed by his more controversial partner Scum. His style has taken off and is starting to develop into it's own. He's shown dedication and progression more than most current writers and continues to develop. I'm going to get shit for this post I know, but trust me...I know. Bang welcome to my favorite local writers of the moment list, don't fuck this up.

Richmond, VA. I-95

Release Hatred

We all looked up to him. He was, without a doubt, our leader. It was a mutual feeling though, because in a way I think he looked up to us too. There was a constant give and take. But from early on I always realized that I was the only one that could see through it.

We weren't any type of organization or organized group. We definitely weren't a gang or any other crime related group. We were just a bunch of people trying to make it out. Well, I wouldn't say make it out… we were just trying to find our niche in this fucked up world. It was more of a reaction than an action.

Just like any other random cluster of people we had our spokesperson. It just felt like this guy knew everything. He knew when to fight and when to let things go. He always had an answer. We were the innocent and he was the experienced. We were the naïve and he was the jaded. We were the weak and he was the strong teaching us to be strong. We broke our backs for that wisdom. And we were breaking our backs to have that type of wisdom. We would have, without a doubt, went to war with this man.

I guess one day he got sick of the way things were and decided to just leave. He called us together and told us it was time to go. There was a unanimous decision to follow him. So they all left in search of something better.

I decided to stay because I was the only one that could see. They were blind to the fact that he was blind. They were not wise enough to put the pieces together. I had learned just enough to know. His house didn't have windows… he had no reason to ever look outside or look inside or look anywhere because it was all black.

The literal blind was leading the figurative blind.

I earned his respect because I stayed and I knew that he knew that I would succeed and he knew that I knew that he would succeed.

The rest of them went down faster than a cheap hooker.

WW

Note from William Wallace to anyone reading: Change can only come from within. If you are unhappy with the way bombing is in Delaware, then you have to be a part of the change. For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction. Read that twice. As much as you would rather live in Philly or New York or wherever because "they're on that real shit"... guess what, you don't, and until you do, you have to be a part of this movement or you have to get off your message board and stop complaining. Pay attention to what is around you. Don't write this off yet. The Glam Life and Glory Days are on some real shit. And not just some real graff shit, some real shit period. If this was pure graff would I even have an audience? Fuck no. So generate interest, just because your boy isn't hittin a blackbook doesn't mean he can't be up on this. Photographers, writers, poets, musicians, anyone with a voice and a message should get involved somehow.

What I'm saying is... Stand up Delaware. Raise your hand. Be proud of where you are from. Read between the lines. Keep searching. Never stop pushing. Never stand still. Make moves. Know when to whisper and know when to yell. Stop hating. Be real. This isn't a movement. This is YOUR movement.

If anyone wants to hit me back, go ahead... instaticww@gmail.com... if not, thats cool, I'm gonna keep pushing because my voice will be heard.

Be easy.

William Wallace

Its almost that time again...

4th of July! Swimming pools, Cookouts, Horseshoes, Spades, Dominoes, Dancing, Fireworks, Shit talking, Loud Music, The Aunt who comes with a Styrofoam container and takes all she can before everybody else can serve their plates. Believe me we're gonna get it in.

That reminds me of this American Made toss that Agua did on the el tracks right off 95. Lemme see if I saved it somewhere.
Ahhh there it is. What about that Agua Short Stop jawn, yeah I should have it somewhere on here too.
See I told you. Agua's been getting it in for years. I woulda loved to see what he was fully capable of if legal troubles hadn't plagued his stats from the first inning to wherever we're at now. Dude's had alotta fans over the years, but anybody remember the team of copycats from D-Ware? Well I do, callout time.
Just click a picture and it gets bigger. Happy Independence Day, save some ribs for me.

**New Video**

Pervert FH. More videos to come!



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Possible Glamorous Life video coming soon.

World Wars

Jacob died. His body was never recovered. The cause of death was unknown. The fact that he died wasn’t questioned though. He was 17 and his blood was smeared across the wall. There was a memorial service and no further questions were asked.
Jacob didn’t really die. He just needed to get away. True, that was his blood. He cut himself and smeared the blood. Jacob found a field.
He walked to the field after he cut himself. He had a shovel, so he started digging. He got pretty deep, he actually almost made it to the core. He built a little shelter and then put together a ladder. Jacob had an idea.
He then dug his way to the Atlantic. He positioned the ladder firmly in the sand and started climbing. He made it through the troposphere, stratosphere, and well into space. He went into black holes and other galaxies, but he wasn’t interested in all that. He built a bridge from space to water, two things that never touch. He was just hanging out on Venus one day with all the fly traps when he decided to send a message to Earth. He walked to the moon with his shovel and carved in a message. It read “fuck what you think.”
Earth saw it and, needless to say, was not too happy. Earth was so upset that he sent a clear message back. It swept the gravity right out from under the moons feet. Jacob saw what happened from the Big Dipper, where he liked to eat brunch. He was amused, so he decided to play a game. He was going to try to make all the Planets war with each other. He devised his plan under the watchful eye of the constellation Orion.
He started sending messages to all the planets in bottles. He would sign the messages with the name of another planet or moon. The Planets are smart. They got together and figured that Jacob was the problem. Not only did they take away Orion’s belt for participating but they had Taurus cut off Jacobs limbs. They put them in a box and mailed them to his parents house with a note that was signed by nine planets and a couple moons.
Now Jacob was dead.
- William Wallace a.k.a Winston Wolf a.k.a World Wars