Blog
The 10/10 Boys GrimSpitters Collaboration: Italy Link
Some collaborations get announced before they happen. Others happen first, and the noise comes later — if it comes at all. The The 10/10 Boys GrimSpitters collaboration belongs to the second category. No teaser campaign, no countdown, no rollout deck. A Los Angeles streetwear house stepping into a room with a group of Italian artists, putting weight behind a music video, and letting the work decide what it wants to be.
Inside the The 10/10 Boys GrimSpitters collaboration
The 10/10 Boys have always operated like a cultural uniform that travels — built in Los Angeles, worn wherever the scene takes it. Hoodies, embroidered caps, graphic puffers, accessories: pieces designed to live on real bodies in real rooms, not in lookbooks. That posture is why the brand reads more like a community marker than a fashion label, and it’s why the partnership with an Italian rap outfit feels native rather than imported.
GrimSpitters (also written Grime Spitterz) are an Italian unit built around two MCs, Salvatore and Omega Riot, with producer Ric De Large shaping the sound underneath. They sit inside a corner of Italian rap that values rough edges, dense bars, and beats that refuse to smooth themselves out for the algorithm. The brand financed a recent music video for the group, and some of its scenes were captured during a trade show in Bologna, where The 10/10 Boys had a stand and the trio were on the ground. The cut is still in editing — no release date, no track name to lean on. What there is, instead, is the fact of the thing: a streetwear house and an Italian rap trio building something together, in the same city, on the same days, with the same camera rolling.
Why Italy, and why now
Italy has always been one of those scenes where culture moves faster than the press releases. Milan gets the magazine covers, but the energy spreads further than that — Rome, Naples, Turin, Bologna. Independent crews, micro-labels, producers who never leave their hometown, MCs who put out a tape and then disappear for two years. It’s a scene that rewards patience, and rewards people who actually show up.
For a brand like The 10/10 Boys, Italy isn’t a market to colonize. It’s a conversation to enter. Music is one of the cleanest ways in. Not because music sells T-shirts — that framing belongs to a decade nobody misses — but because music is where the cultural codes of a city get rewritten in real time. Backing an Italian group, in an Italian city, with an Italian production team, lands differently than any paid campaign could. It says: we listened first. This is the logic behind the broader thread of The 10/10 Boys collaborations that has taken shape over the past couple of years — each partnership with its own face, its own region, its own sound, none of them transplanted.

A music video, partly shot at a trade show in Bologna
Trade shows are strange places to film a music video. They’re loud, lit unevenly, crowded with people who don’t know they’re going to end up on camera. But there’s a texture to them that no rented set can fake — the half-finished stands, the cables on the floor, the moment a stranger walks through a frame and somehow makes it better.
The Bologna scenes for the GrimSpitters video happened in exactly that environment. The 10/10 Boys had a stand on the floor. GrimSpitters were already in town. Rolling cameras during the show wasn’t a logistical workaround — it was an editorial choice. A music video that captures a brand and a group existing in the same room, on the same day, in a city that means something to both of them. The rest of the video has been shot elsewhere, in settings the group selected. Post-production is still underway, so there’s no public cut yet. What can be said now is that the visual language is being shaped by the group, not dictated by the brand. That distinction is what separates a sponsorship from a community-led collaboration.
The artists — Salvatore, Omega Riot, Ric De Large
GrimSpitters are not a manufactured group. Salvatore and Omega Riot trade verses across tracks that lean into the harder, more textural end of Italian rap — closer to grime in cadence than to the polished pop-rap that tends to dominate streaming charts. Ric De Large handles production, and his beats give the project its center of gravity: dense, low-end heavy, with enough space for the MCs to actually breathe. The three of them work as a unit rather than a feature-driven act. That’s part of why the link with The 10/10 Boys fits — both sides operate from a closed circle outward, rather than chasing scale for its own sake.

What real cultural presence looks like
It’s easy to confuse visibility with presence. A brand can pay for billboards, hand out free pieces at festivals, sponsor a tour, and still feel like a guest in every room it enters. Presence is different. Presence is what happens when a brand starts showing up where the culture is already moving — and contributes something the people inside that culture would have wanted anyway.
Funding a music video for a group like GrimSpitters does that work. It puts resources into the hands of artists who are already doing the thing. It doesn’t ask them to wear the brand in every frame or thread the logo into the chorus. The clothes are around because the people wearing them are around. That’s how The 10/10 Boys premium streetwear lives in the world: as part of the picture, not the subject of it. This is also the reason the project has weight beyond Italy — the mechanics translate anywhere. Authenticity isn’t a country. It’s a method.
Brand identity, on and off camera
The pieces worn in the Bologna footage are not props. The embroidered cap, the graphic puffer, the bandana detail, the layered look against a grey Italian sky — that’s the same lifestyle apparel sold through the official store. Every drop is built with the same eye for material, fit and graphic language that turns a streetwear piece into a marker of belonging. The 10/10 Boys product line — clothing, hats, accessories — moves through the brand’s official channels, and the Telegram side of the operation is where the community talks to itself in real time.
Anyone looking for authentic The 10/10 Boys products should stick to those official surfaces. The brand’s premium streetwear is increasingly imitated, and verification matters — checking authenticity through the official channels is the only way to know a piece comes from the actual line and not a knock-off riding the name.
Watching this one land
The video will arrive when it arrives. No timeline is being forced. In the meantime, the brand keeps moving and the group keeps recording. Anyone interested in following the rollout, or in seeing how future drops and collaborations unfold, can stay close through The 10/10 Boys official Telegram and the rest of the brand’s public channels. Italy was the doorway. The room is bigger than that.