1597 - ATMOSPHERE

Henceforth, step within my psychoanalysis

Callouses upon my mind make me strain for my lines

Out I ripped it squeezed the brain, it made some liquid

Drained it in a cup and then I sipped it

Atmosphere, the mic let me clutch it

Thoughts take flight so fit Slug in your pipe and take a puff kid

Fuck it, I heat it like a tea pot, steam hot

Upon the roof shoot a marble with the verbal slingshot

Take aim, here I came, I’m the same

Back in '86, I’da tag my name upon your window pane

Stained the mind, a deep shade of residue

Voices within the head make choices multiple

Multiply Spawn, Slug a little buzz

And Atmosphere the scuds, cause here comes the judge

Blasted, so pass the kid a mic so we can paint this

Image of the gifted-anxious, to flip the language

It’s the noun meltdown from the outer-shell

Now smell the burning flesh fresh from the hell-bound

And come on down here, this mind path, I’m half-

Mathematic Atmospheric staff with the rhyme craft

Comin' to capture, your after-laughter

While I’m hanging from this rafter, I have to rip this rapture

Cause the cramps in my stomach, dismantle

When I tamper with your amplifier, you damn-you die

Why try?

The sky presents an eternally unfolding spectacle

One moment puffs of cumulus clouds skidder across it

And next a billowing thunderhead

Perhaps ten miles high looms over the horizon

Probing the structure of the sky

Why try?

Cause I can read an emcee from front to back

From the cover to the classified, I’ve pacified

My mind with my rhyme skills, I climb hills

And leap, foolish twitch with a single bound

Sending tingles down your spine, designed to swing a pound

This ax handle tripled, inch spike protruding

From the tip of my mic distributing fuckin' headshots

Shots to your head, now you’re knee-deep, you need sleep

As you trudge through the sludge and the slugs and the bird shit

We swarm with the bees and diseases

And even if your deejay was Jesus, you could never fuck with these kids

I swarm with the bees and diseases

And even if your deejay was Jesus, you could never fuck with these kids

Yeah muthafucker, you know who you fuckin' with

You know what kind ass whooping comes with this

You whole crew could get some of this

You whack-as-fuck kids is what the subject is

Roughnecks live, for only a second

Then they give.

Oblivion’s what you’ve stepped in

Your reps token, should have been lookin'

I’m sick of you bitch-ass crews when

You tried take what’s not yours but you couldn’t

Take mine, your fake rhymes, spit them you shouldn’t

What will it be now, another victory

Yo who will it be now, it’s Spawn that emcee

Complete, a true champ, stamped that on my essence

Amped shootin' presence, fattenin' each fuckin' sentence

When it’s time, then it’s time to go

That’s what I know, be rippin' mics at every show we flow

But who’s got my back though?

Stress, Beyond, Ant, the Slug

So you bests be on your way before there’s trouble