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Atmosphere >>
[Slug]Hence forth, step within my psychoanalysiscallouses upon my mind make me strain for my linesout I ripped it, squeeeeezed the brain: it made some liquiddrained it in a cup and then I sipped itAtmosphere! The mic let me clutch itthoughts take flight so fit the Slug in your pipe and take a puff kidfuck it! I heat it like a tea pot - steam hotupon the roof: shoot a marble with the verbal slingshottake aim, here I came, I'm the sameBack in '86, I'da tag my name upon your window panestained the mind: a deep shade of residuevoices within the head make choices multiplemultiply Spawn, Slug a little buzzand Atmosphere the scuds, cuz here come the judgeblasted; so past the kid a mic so we can paint thisimage of the gifted-anxious, to flip the languageit's the noun meltdown from the outer-shellnow smell the burning flesh fresh from the hell-boundand come on down here, this mind path, I'm half-mathematic Atmospheric staff with the rhyme craftcomin to capture, your after-laughterwhile I'm hangin from this rafter, I have to rip this rapturecuz the cramps in my stomach, dismantlewhen I tamper wit your amplify, you damn-you die...Why try?The sky presents an eternally unfolding spectacle:One moment puffs of cumulous clouds get across it and next a billowing thunderhead perhaps 10 miles high looms over the horizon probing the structure of the sky...Why try?[Slug]Cause I can read an emcee from front to backfrom the cover to the classified - I've pacifiedmy mind with my rhyme skills - I climb hillsand leap, foolish twitch with a single boundsending tingles down your spine, designed to swing a poundthis ax_handle_tripled inch_spike_protrudingfrom the tip of my mic distrubuting fuckin headshotsshots to your head, now your're knee-deep, you need sleepas you trutch thru the sludge and the slugs and the bird shitwe swarm with the bees and diseasesand even if your deejay was Jesus, you could never fuck with these kidsI've swarmed with the bees and diseasesand even if your deejay was Jesus, you could never fuck with these kids[Spawn]Yea muthafucka! you know who you fuckin withyou know what kind ass whooping comes with thisyour whole crew could get some of this, your wack ass fuck kids is what the subject isroughnecks live, for only a secondthen they give oblivion's, what you've stepped inyour reps token, should have been lookinI'm sick of you bitch-ass crews when:you tried take what's not your but 'cha couldn'ttake mine, your fake rhymes - spit them you shouldn'twhat will it be now? another victoryayo who will it be now? it's Spawn that emceecomplete, a true champ - stamped that on my essenceamped shootin presence, fattenin each fuckin sentencewhen its time, then it's time to gothat's what I know, be rippin mics at every show we flowbut who's got my back though?[Slug]Stress, Beyond, ANT, the Slug[Spawn]so you bests be on your way before there's trouble...
