Brief Description Lyrics - Overcast - Atmosphere

(Sample: "Have you heard it? Sing along with it. 

If you didn't hear it, you're gonna hear it right now.") 

(Slug) 

Bam, the door way opened for me 

I saw ways and told the story 

Raw day dreams of holding glory 

Junior high, hall way kings 

Locker taggin' MCs 

Beat boxin', breakin' Zulu Nation wanna-bes 

It didn't take long to see who'd stay strong 

High school came upon 

Some B-Boys put their gang bangs on 

But some kept on doing 

Step 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 the quest for allies to rest 

Dead 

In the Midwest where heads 

Is just a handful 

In a land of gangstas 

Players, replacements, pricks, banjos 

We scramble 

To break MCs that may appreciate it 

Guided by the envy, insecurity, and the hatred 

Separated by the 'gimmie props' technique 

And a 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 

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Within the movement 

Fact checkin', tryin' to completely avoid all channels of back-stepping 

From the lines of painted the concrete 

that reside on Lakestreet 

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 the not quite that serious state but I've evolved 

Metamorphed a manifest state 

Photos 

Ised 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, crackle and stomp 

That's what I found 

The abyss that sits 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 make my way down to the record pool 

I met a grip of people that was bullshit (bullshit) 

Was down with a lot of people that was bullshit 

But I 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 

Fuckin' 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, write now, writing this 

I'm buggin' off of the people in my life that made me like this 

Within the movement 

Fact checkin' 

Tryin' to completely avoid all channels of back-steppin' 

From the lines of painted concrete 

that reside on Franklin Ave 

To the dead bird on the elevator 

To that short in your cross fader 

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 the not quite that serious state 

Metamorph a manifest state 

Well sometimes it rings and I don't answer it 

That's it no asterisks 

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 are 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 trippin' on attention 

But if you up it, it's welcome 

Open arms, potent charms 

I know the words and I can spell them 

Seldom is it 

When one inquisits 

Do they leave with this interest 

In fact most begin crave the visits 

Bringin' me to the table 

That's it, no more, no less 

The love, the life, the stress 

Slug, the mic, the mess 

Tested 

Yes, I've been tested and I've tested some 

I'm not sayin' I'm the best 

Believe I'm not 

Like the rest of em 

Just sayin' 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 quiet, lean your head and say, "Yes, you can feel me." 

(Sample: "Asking himself, even before the curtain goes up, what am I? 

I am now eighty 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 everyday 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.")