Atmosphere - 1597 lyrics

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