Слушать Atmosphere — One Of A Kind
Текст Atmosphere — One Of A Kind
The way she listen to what the emcee said
She might as well plug the RCA cords into her head
Takin’ that into consideration at the center of creation,
Cats still criticize my frustration raps.
Well off he goes, coming cop some flows
Cross your toes and hopes that I don’t climb you like an obstacle
Mission impossible, fishin’ in the kitchen sink
Ya’ll fall for anything so what you think this kid will bring?
Poker face, let me hold my place.
The name’s Sacred Slug, but you, you can call Stroker Ace
Open invitation to catch today’s ejaculation all across the front
Of your pretty little apron.
This goes to those that want a mouth full of Sean’s load.
Thanks for starting, now you’re barking down the wrong road
Sacrifice plays a part in grabbing mics,
From now to the afterlife I’ll continue passion-like.
I love this fuckin whore with all my heart
And ain’t nobody gonna stop me from doing my part.
It gave me life, it saved me life, it raised me right
So slideshow and deciding please hand over that mic.
Who am I? One of a kind, Send ’em one at a time
You’re all the same only separate by kick snares and names.
And some of ya’ll even share the same names,
So fuck you and your lies baby, show no shame.
So point a finger at the sucker that’s having a good summer
Ain’t got no bread, no needto know wonder
But I got the phone number to this weakness,
I know who can put me back together, make me feel whole
So take me apart, try to break me down,
Spend all you got just to hate the clown.
You can fake the frown, imitate the sound
Underworld, world-wide, wide world of underground
It goes, one little, two little, three little indie rap
Headphones, backpacks watch ’em all piggyback
Switch up my styles, they all complain
But see which kids next year sound the same as me?
The same shit yesterday was like today
Only difference is I trust even less of what you say
But all in all I still make the noise, I still break the toys, I still hate your voice
I still say fuck a major label till it limps,
Put your deal up our table and we’ll show you who’s the pimp.
There is no sympathy for the careless,
Fuck the extra credit and fuck the demerits.
(You’re all the same)