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Lyrics for 1957 by Atmosphere:
| | | Artist: | Atmosphere |
| | Album: | Miscellaneous | | Track: | 1957 | | | | Date Added: | 24/10/2007 | | Views: | 61 | | | | Lyrics: | [Slug]
Hence forth, step within my psychoanalysis
callouses upon my mind make me
strain for my lines
out I ripped it, squeeeeezed 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 the 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, cuz here come the judge
blasted;
so past 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
hangin from this rafter, I have to rip this rapture
cuz the cramps in my stomach,
dismantle
when I tamper wit your amplify, you damn-you die...
Why try?
The sky presents an eternally unfolding spectacle:
One moment puffs of cumulous clouds get
across it
and next a billowing thunderhead
perhaps 10 miles high looms over the
horizon
probing the structure of the sky...
Why try?
[Slug]
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 distrubuting fuckin
headshots
shots to your head, now your're knee-deep, you need sleep
as you trutch thru
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've swarmed with the
bees and diseases
and even if your deejay was Jesus, you could never fuck with these kids
/>
[Spawn]
Yea muthafucka! you know who you fuckin with
you know what kind
ass whooping comes with this
your whole crew could get some of this,
your wack ass
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 your but 'cha couldn't
take
mine, your fake rhymes - spit them you shouldn't
what will it be now? another victory
ayo 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 its 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?
[Slug]
Stress, Beyond, ANT, the Slug
[Spawn]
/>
so you bests be on your way before there's trouble... | | | |  Reddit | X / Twitter | Facebook | Copy link |
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