Atmosphere - 7th St. Entry lyrics
[Atmosphere - 7th St. Entry lyrics]
Now see, maybe if your tag was dope
I'd actually lend a little
Credibility to your statements
But honestly, your penmanship's fucked
The way I see it
Someone should at least slap you
For even holding a marker
I hope the kid who wrote my
Name in the entry bathroom
Has the nuts and time for us
To sit and chat soon
So I can ask 'em "Why the fuck
Am I on your mind bitch?"
You could've signed it
But stayed silent cause you're spineless
If you was a man
You'd come at me on the mic level
But you're light yellow just like the
Walls on which you write fellow
When I first viewed it
I'll admit it had me quite pissed
But now I've accepted it
In fact I kind of like this
I really wish I knew your identity
Probably not even an emcee
Just another who pretends to be
Or maybe the jealousy of one who's
Baby baby has eyes for me
It's nineteen-ninety-sev'
Nothing surprises me
Envy can make a motherfucker immature
So can boredom
A buzz or the curse of being insecure
C'mon now
Some little trick with a marker and a chip
On his shoulder don't mean shit
I want the world in my grip
I bet your girl's on my dick
She digs the skills
She's a bigger head than you
So give me head and head for the hills
Little bitch, donkey dick sucking ass-fuck
Glue sniffing
Half a testicle base head selling plasma
Publicity, good or bad, the same to an emcee
I think I found your limit's to
Fame over on Seventh Street
I dedicate my name to those who
View me as an enemy
And I'mma mark the planet for
Every mark in the entry
Entry, enter me
What's funny about the whole shit
Is that like two, maybe three years from now
You little cockroaches that talk shit
About me and my crew
Are gonna be thanking us for
Kicking down the door
And putting this shit on the globe
Britches, y'all wanna burn bridges?
Just remember in the back of your
Bitch mind that I'm partially responsible
For anyone tryna hear your wack
Ass to begin with
And to that child who writes about
Me in the Seventh Street bathroom
Thanks for buying our tapes
You can size me up
And I hope your first born
Never learns how to read
Sincerely Slug, Atmosphere
A subdivision of Rhymesayers
Entertainment motherfucker
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly) Size me up
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly) Size me up
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly) Size me up
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly)
(Eventually, you will suddenly see
A fist to your jaw, a clap in that ass)
I'd actually lend a little
Credibility to your statements
But honestly, your penmanship's fucked
The way I see it
Someone should at least slap you
For even holding a marker
I hope the kid who wrote my
Name in the entry bathroom
Has the nuts and time for us
To sit and chat soon
So I can ask 'em "Why the fuck
Am I on your mind bitch?"
You could've signed it
But stayed silent cause you're spineless
If you was a man
You'd come at me on the mic level
But you're light yellow just like the
Walls on which you write fellow
When I first viewed it
I'll admit it had me quite pissed
But now I've accepted it
In fact I kind of like this
I really wish I knew your identity
Probably not even an emcee
Just another who pretends to be
Or maybe the jealousy of one who's
Baby baby has eyes for me
It's nineteen-ninety-sev'
Nothing surprises me
Envy can make a motherfucker immature
So can boredom
A buzz or the curse of being insecure
C'mon now
Some little trick with a marker and a chip
On his shoulder don't mean shit
I want the world in my grip
I bet your girl's on my dick
She digs the skills
She's a bigger head than you
So give me head and head for the hills
Little bitch, donkey dick sucking ass-fuck
Glue sniffing
Half a testicle base head selling plasma
Publicity, good or bad, the same to an emcee
I think I found your limit's to
Fame over on Seventh Street
I dedicate my name to those who
View me as an enemy
And I'mma mark the planet for
Every mark in the entry
Entry, enter me
What's funny about the whole shit
Is that like two, maybe three years from now
You little cockroaches that talk shit
About me and my crew
Are gonna be thanking us for
Kicking down the door
And putting this shit on the globe
Britches, y'all wanna burn bridges?
Just remember in the back of your
Bitch mind that I'm partially responsible
For anyone tryna hear your wack
Ass to begin with
And to that child who writes about
Me in the Seventh Street bathroom
Thanks for buying our tapes
You can size me up
And I hope your first born
Never learns how to read
Sincerely Slug, Atmosphere
A subdivision of Rhymesayers
Entertainment motherfucker
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly) Size me up
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly) Size me up
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly) Size me up
Enter me, study me
Cause I know that you know that
(Eventually, suddenly)
(Eventually, you will suddenly see
A fist to your jaw, a clap in that ass)