Atmosphere - Choking on the Wishbone lyrics
[Atmosphere - Choking on the Wishbone lyrics]
This one goes out to all
Of those that want success
Wait, not just the ones that want it
This goes to those that feel they deserve it
And this one goes to all of
Those that make the moves
And those that have paid the dues
To all of those that walk the
Fine line on the edge
To all the heads about to break it loose
And you don't want to come
Close to feeling it
Initial reaction like "Yo
I don't give a shh"
After a minute within it, they start to think
"Why the hell they didn't get it
Did they not hear what he speaks?"
They don't know me, it's best that way
Let 'em look for tomorrow in yesterday
And let me strain my lungs for
The love of popping amps
Let me spike the ball because
I don't like to dance
Let me paint a picture on
The surface of your mind
I got a job at the circus
And I quit writing rhymes
Now I travel from city to city
Life of a gypsy
Gravel, grass, concrete, folklore and mystery
Yo, looking at my Gucci
It's about that time
For me to pawn this piece of junk and
Try to pay some of these fines
Fly angel fly, don't ever look back
You better scoop that dead rat off the track
Go home and cook that
Maybe you should trade that
Mustang for a Jeep
So when you get too drunk to drive
You'll have a dry place to sleep
Don't forget what chocolate milk
Does to the hangover come on
Who you think cut the tires
On your Land Rover?
Twist the nobs and chew the
Fat off the shish kebab
Ditch the lard that cut my hair
And made me quit my job
And if I pass before they get
A chance to hear me
Tell 'em "Kiss my ass" and teach
'em all about my theory
Choking on a wishbone
Position blown out the frame
Pissed on the remains to mark the
Spot and spark the flame
It never settles
The constant grinding of metal
Against complicated timing
Developing my threshold
Touching the gestalt with a little
Reverb and some echo
To add extra flavor like pesto
Yo, the cards are dealt and now
I'm staring at my hand
Looking for something to toss
Tryna find a spot to stand
The anger felt as I look across the land
It doesn't equal to the eagerness
And hunger to expand
Move past, the barrier is set
The previous sets
Carry me through the meaninglessness
Here I am with the word extracting nerves
Running toward the stage
(here we go) to watch the crash occur
Put your head on the pillow
And shut your eyes
Take your mind out the ghetto
And touch the sky
Then come ease down that much
Feared trail of blood, sweat and love
Instead of flame, crying tears in the rain
The thunder came
And it drowned out the hunger pains
Numbed the brain and played life
Like a numbers game
Poppa needs a new pair of nuts
Cause he lost touch
With the last ones fastened to
The bottom of his guts
Yo, they don't know me, it's best that way
Let 'em look for tomorrow in yesterday
This child is your fate so let 'em play
I bet I know your age and
I can guess your weight wait, wait
How can it be so simple and straight?
And why the hell ain't you tripping to
Make some ripples in the lake?
I can't figure it out
For God's sake arguing a lost case
As it irritates my prostate
And when I sit home alone
I kick over the telephone and catch
My zone inside the dial tone
Multiple recordings of Slug talking play
Together for 38 seconds
Of those that want success
Wait, not just the ones that want it
This goes to those that feel they deserve it
And this one goes to all of
Those that make the moves
And those that have paid the dues
To all of those that walk the
Fine line on the edge
To all the heads about to break it loose
And you don't want to come
Close to feeling it
Initial reaction like "Yo
I don't give a shh"
After a minute within it, they start to think
"Why the hell they didn't get it
Did they not hear what he speaks?"
They don't know me, it's best that way
Let 'em look for tomorrow in yesterday
And let me strain my lungs for
The love of popping amps
Let me spike the ball because
I don't like to dance
Let me paint a picture on
The surface of your mind
I got a job at the circus
And I quit writing rhymes
Now I travel from city to city
Life of a gypsy
Gravel, grass, concrete, folklore and mystery
Yo, looking at my Gucci
It's about that time
For me to pawn this piece of junk and
Try to pay some of these fines
Fly angel fly, don't ever look back
You better scoop that dead rat off the track
Go home and cook that
Maybe you should trade that
Mustang for a Jeep
So when you get too drunk to drive
You'll have a dry place to sleep
Don't forget what chocolate milk
Does to the hangover come on
Who you think cut the tires
On your Land Rover?
Twist the nobs and chew the
Fat off the shish kebab
Ditch the lard that cut my hair
And made me quit my job
And if I pass before they get
A chance to hear me
Tell 'em "Kiss my ass" and teach
'em all about my theory
Choking on a wishbone
Position blown out the frame
Pissed on the remains to mark the
Spot and spark the flame
It never settles
The constant grinding of metal
Against complicated timing
Developing my threshold
Touching the gestalt with a little
Reverb and some echo
To add extra flavor like pesto
Yo, the cards are dealt and now
I'm staring at my hand
Looking for something to toss
Tryna find a spot to stand
The anger felt as I look across the land
It doesn't equal to the eagerness
And hunger to expand
Move past, the barrier is set
The previous sets
Carry me through the meaninglessness
Here I am with the word extracting nerves
Running toward the stage
(here we go) to watch the crash occur
Put your head on the pillow
And shut your eyes
Take your mind out the ghetto
And touch the sky
Then come ease down that much
Feared trail of blood, sweat and love
Instead of flame, crying tears in the rain
The thunder came
And it drowned out the hunger pains
Numbed the brain and played life
Like a numbers game
Poppa needs a new pair of nuts
Cause he lost touch
With the last ones fastened to
The bottom of his guts
Yo, they don't know me, it's best that way
Let 'em look for tomorrow in yesterday
This child is your fate so let 'em play
I bet I know your age and
I can guess your weight wait, wait
How can it be so simple and straight?
And why the hell ain't you tripping to
Make some ripples in the lake?
I can't figure it out
For God's sake arguing a lost case
As it irritates my prostate
And when I sit home alone
I kick over the telephone and catch
My zone inside the dial tone
Multiple recordings of Slug talking play
Together for 38 seconds