Atmosphere - Hold Mine lyrics

Intro: You know it's f**ed up when your own little brother won't bump your sh** (Where am I comin' in?) Yo, you walk into the place with your own Little brother and be like, "Yo, check it out." (Yeah, thanks a lot Just make sure that you keep your mouth closed.) This is my motherf**in' little brother And people say, "Ayo, why your big brother act like that? (Yo shut the f** up when you're talkin' to me.) f** him. He ain't no rapper." (Yo, what the f**'s your problem?) Verse One [Eyedea] Yo, shut the f** up and die is what I really want to say to you I hope someone hits you in the face til it's 80 different shades of blue Isn't there anything better you got to do then jock my crew? I sever contenders and render the hearing process impossible You talk trash behind my back and act like you know me But when you see me at the show you give me dap like we're homies Remember Bad Day? Thought I was through talkin' sh** And now I'm like, "f** the world" Just cause you walk on it [Aesop Rock] Yo, the stink of burnt bridges inches into the end zone Where every breath of bad karma's reciprocated tenfold Enjoy the last boogie when life raises the gavel It symbolizes your very last chance to act like an a**hole Plastic soldiers grabbing at their holsters Trying to burst imaginary heaters in their ghost wars Each jackle eventually slipped backwards Showcasing how to best waste your life by trying to dismantle the patchwork [Illogic] If you pa** this test I'm be sure to pin your red badge of courage through your chest flesh With swift hands The way your blood will flood you'll switch plans Til blue waters is red quick sand Sinkin' deeper into the potion I'll bottle my jizzm and sell it to your wisdom as some hand lotion I walk the fine line of being ill and being sick And you walk the fine line of being a p**y and being a b**h [Blueprint] I hold attention spans like drums sticks and play solos That sound like Coltrane High on c**aine And now the clouds are quarter notes And I'm a mortal man thinkin' I can float but Maybe I'm delirious And this is a psychedelic experience Either way I know it makes me a better lyricist And you ain't hardly hard In fact you a coward That back bites behind closed doors like Marv Albert [Slug] It's the sour taste of self esteem swallowed through a straw Enough to make your stomach bloat and leave a swollen jaw I'm holdin' balls You're holdin' breath How much of your soul is left? Frozen steps, snooze bu*ton, perpetual overslept Wake the f** up And sit the f** down Shut your f** hole And ask yourself, "What now?" Rippin' the shreds Lift 'em by the heads Spin 'em around And let 'em look at what they did to the bread Verse Two [Aesop Rock] Roll over, sit, fetch, play dead, beg The political allotment walks with a peg leg I pack celebrations of an awkward opus Not because it's fly But simply because I can identify [Slug] I carry the type of clout That sneaks below the radar The less they know about IS the more I can take apart I got a few famous alter egos inside of my frame It's how I deal with these people that don't know my real name [Eyedea] I fired the angels Hired a miser to hide in the rainbows And murdered the worthless merchants purely For kickin' the same-ole-same-ole You're what happens when God hiccups The contents in a fraction of my product Will leave your whole project crushed [Blueprint] The Orphanage Got a quality crew You got a bunch of teeny boppers following you All you pastel poets I'm talkin' to you Who's the gay rapper? It's probably you [Illogic] Word Print, they all ho cakes No flavor like cookies that are no bake I like sacks fully budded up with no shake We prepare rare forms five snow flakes The wack get no brakes [Aesop Rock] Now these here brittle b**hes Cuddle up to syncopated sixes In triplicate I cripple it just to fiddle with the syllabus I hate slackers They burn through my city By thickening up the atmosphere And thinning out the madness [Blueprint] Ah, whatever the language Blueprint freaks it well From Visual Basic Down to Speak & Spell I'll even battle these weak MCs with braille Not to be f**ed with Any MC can tell [Illogic] Cause you the cat that packs pink caps to piece they thought train I sodomize him with six broomsticks to watch him walk strange Slug drowns him in spit Eyedea snaps the camera Aesop prepares eulogies In iambic pentameter [Eyedea] It's the Orphanage Certified Kevorkians Rappers be torturing my dick Chap lips will leave the foreskin ripped Unless you're givin' props Put a cork in it As I give you a new reason Never to record your sh** [Slug] We spent the most time Workin' this gold mine Everybody's got their own stories I wrote mine Everybody's got their own words You quote mine Everybody thinks I'm f**in' nuts Wanna hold mine?