Atmosphere - Brief Description lyrics

[Sample: "Have you heard it? Sing along If you didn't hear it you're gonna hear it right now."] [Verse 1: Slug] 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 sh** we thought we ruled in But what a surprise: the pa**ion 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 [Hook] 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 sh** 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 [Verse 2: Slug] 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 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 making my way down to the record pool I met a grip of people that was bullsh** Was down with a lot of people that was bullsh** But I'll pull sh** from the a**hole of an angel before I let him ha**le 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 f**ing 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 [Hook] 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 [Verse 3: Slug] 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 inquisits Do they leave with disinterest 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 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." [Sample] "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 [?]. 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."