About Us

Jamnapaar in our lungs, grooves in our veins.
We don’t just wear the city — we cut, scratch, and remix it.
Every drop’s a rare cut, every fit’s a track you keep on repeat — all original bars, no catfish verses.

We weren’t born with mics in our hands — we were born with ears tuned to the underground. The kids who’d pause a track mid-beat just to say, “Yo, did you hear that?” Jamnapaar’s streets taught us rhythm before we even knew the words.
We never burned the booth, so we built our own — flipping bars into threads, verses into fits, and sidewalks into our stage.
Because if the mic won’t take your story, the streets will.

This side of the river? It breeds spitters who turn mics into ash. We took a different weapon — cotton into ciphers, hoodies into hooklines, heat you can wear without touching the booth.
Proof you can drop fire without ever touching a mic.

Here&There moves in the spaces most people skip — the pause that talks louder than the beat, the lines your mom wouldn’t get but your crew would play on repeat. We don’t follow charts; we write the liner notes.
We turn fabric into flow, and every fit’s a mic drop.

Every drop’s a setlist, every piece a verse you can walk in. Our logo? Braille — so you gotta feel it before you understand it.
Some people wear brands. The real ones wear messages.

We’re not selling to everyone — we’re speaking to the culture holders, frequency-hunters, crate-diggers, and beat-builders who live between worlds and still find their rhythm.
If you catch the signal, you’re already part of the verse.

Here&There ain’t a logo you wear — it’s a language you speak. We don’t just drop clothes, we smuggle verses into your wardrobe and let the streets do the streaming.
Trends fade. Our verses don’t.