Atmosphere - Brief Description lyrics

Bam, the doorway opened for me
I saw ways and told the story
Raw daydreams of holding glory
Junior high hallway kings
Locking, Bagging MCs
Beat boxing, breaking Zulu Nation wannabees
It didn't take long to see
Who would stay strong high school came upon
Some B-Boys put their gang bangs on
But some kept on doing, stepped on to ruin
Others that were pursuing the same shit
We thought we ruled in
But what a surprise: the passion
For being the best
Puts a quest for allies to rest
Dead in the Midwest where heads
Is just a handful in a land of gangstas
Players, replacements, priests, banjos
We scramble to break MCs
That may appreciate it
Guided by their envy, insecurity
And their hatred
Separated by the "gimmie props" technique
And the desire to be the tops this week
I gotta floss the speak cause talk is cheap
Even the broke kids can afford it
That's why I stand close and if
You're dope then I'm supportive
But if not: we'll keep the mic warm
For the next one, respect the artform
And make your wishes on the stars born

Within the movement fact checking
Trying to completely avoid all
Channels of backstepping
From the lines of painted concrete
That reside on Lake Street
To the way we close our eyes to sleep
And drift through Deep Space 9 type shit
To find this
I've been around for as long as sound
I've been to that not-so-fresh phase
And to that not-quite-that-serious state
But I've evolved, metamorphed manifestate

I used to be young, dumb and full of vision
Like it was religious rituals
I made initial decisions
I wanted to be a rapper world renowned
From Minneap to the Bronx
Capture girls and crowns
Snap, tackle and stomp that's when I found
The abyss that sit's in between
The one that holds
The mic and those that don't even listen
Formed some crews
Rocked talent shows at schools
Saturdays on the 18 making my way
Down to the record pool
I met a grip of people that was bullshit
Was down with a lot of
People that was bullshit
But I'll pull shit from the asshole of an
Angel before I let him hassle and strangle
The love triangle between me the
Mic and the turntable
Went to studios, we want to make demos
We want to do shows and
Rock our own instrumentals
Do our own production
Fucking around with this kid Kazir
Nitwit engineer
Barely knew his own equipment
Atmosphere, the prefix was "Urban"
Wrecked shows, made friends, made foes
Overall, we made flows
And right now as I sit here, right now
Writing this
I'm bugging off the people in my
Life that made me like this

Within the movement fact checkin'
Tryin' to completely avoid all
Channels of backsteppin'
From the lines of painted concrete
That reside on Franklin Ave
To the dead bird on the elevator
To that short in your crossfader
I never got lost later for efforts to pester
Just throw your hands up in
The air like a leper
I've been to that not-so-fresh phase
And to that not-quite-that-serious state
Metamorph and manifestate

Well sometimes it rings and
I don't answer it that's it, no asterisk
No thirst to find the circumstances
It was planted in me deep
It was nurtured and it grew
Gave it sleep and nutrition
It was efficient, let it through
There's a few that have developed to where
I let them in my spectrum
For the rest of 'em
I give them just enough to cause infection
Not tripping on attention
But if you have it, it's welcome
Open arms, potent charm
I know the words and I can spell them
Seldom is it, when one inquisit's
Do they leave with disinterest
In fact most begin crave the visit's
Bringin' me to the table
That's it, no more no less
The love, the life, the stress
Slug, the mic, the mess testing yes
I've been tested and I've tested some
Not saying I'm the best
Believe I'm not like the rest of 'em
Just saying I'm better than you
That's my mind state my rhymes take me into
When I check one two
I guess some do get pissed
But intentions were to inspire
Build the empire before I get tired
The ones that tear me down don't know it
But they're the same ones that built me
Now quietly in your head say
"Yes you can feel me"

"Asking himself
Even before the curtain goes up: What am
I? I am now 80 years old, and more, and
I am determined to find precisely what I am
What
I amount to they tell me I am everything
They flatter me every day
Of my life i am now going
To subject myself to a
Rigorous test in order to find
Out really what I
Am i don't care about kingdom
I don't care about rule
Anymore it is of no importance
To me, as such
But I must find out what I am before I die"