Atmosphere

Atmosphere - Cats Van Bags lyrics

rate me

I can't scratch, cause I'm drunk

I got bad teeth and my gums are bleeding

Come and fucking get me, motherfucker

Yeah, break, start the song now, fucker

We travelin the missle, weavin' through your cornfields

Leavin behind a trail of amature porn and orange peels

Navagatin through this basement, the masquerades

As our nation, practicin' my acid take, masturbation

Watchin the expressions on the faces

Of the ones designated to be the queens, kings, and aces

How many miles can you put on one soul

Before the smile starts to blend into one big bullet hole

Shoot through it as a union, with the best of my crew

Bumpin melodies and memories too, my heads killin me, ohh

Stomach empty, my bladder is full

Two years old son on Jay Birds phone Cryin, ya missin me

And I'm stallin', I'll bite ya arm off

Sabertooth Tiger, run the night with the sharp claws

In ya backyard just to fuck with ya guard dog

Throw a brick through your shit and cut the alarm off

Bitch

Fuck yes, I do my best to take advantage in bouts

With one hand over the mouth, still managin' to shout

Theres more said, then in the lines in your forehead

Then could ever try to find print on the inside of that warhead

Cross country, like a little lost junky

Make them hot and jumpy, trying to get that God money

Stearin the van through the blizzards, the fanfare

Pivit when we visit, spit victim if you stand there

Take a map of this picture, throw a dart at it, thats where

We took a room back full the kids and threw a heart at it

Angry like a hostage, Kickin like a little bitch in one of Dibs's mosh pits

Shifitin through your city limits tryin to find the raw shit

Thread and needle wit it, and weave a world of hate together, till we get

'em car sick

Face full of war paint, strapped ready for action

Battle cracks headin, trying to seek the satisfaction of the captain

Climbed over the side, closed his eyes

Took a dive into his fame, inspiration for stayin alive

Swam to the shore, stepped upon land

Walked up to a whore, grabbed her by the hand

And said

Let the wheels spin, let the road shake

Let the speakers blow

Let the line in, let the kids play

Let the people know

Let the roof burn, let the girls love

Let the heat flow

Let the world turn, let the curtains up

Cats Van Bags, Yo

Lock eyes, with a thousand people at the same time

They minds, believin this, my style of graffiti is

Squeezin this, the mid west, sweat out of my shirt

And leavin with my life essence embedded in ya dirt

We work, move, and hustle with the rest of the Gypsies

Spoon feed these issues to a new school of Fishes

Swimmin through a hazy shade of passion

Here they come, the Hazleton has-been, and his chaplin

Thats them, the migrants, seasonal workers

The finest imperial wordsmiths on the circuit

Two Million smiles and runnin, stompin', trying to flee the heat

Turn around, shootin at the monster till his knees are weak

They call me Jesus Freak, I came to listen

Then I save you, then I make you, my favorite position

Chasin' this pigeon down the street towards the banks

Just in case, my traffic receives jeeps and tanks

And we wonder through the snow(?), so let it be known

Mama I don't know if I'ma ever be home

The revolution wont have any distribution

I love my son and my music so I gotta keep it movin'

Like

Let the wheels spin, let the road shake

Let the speakers blow

Let the line in, let the kids play

Let the people know

Let the roof burn, let the girls love

Let the heat flow

Let the world turn, let the curtains up

Cats Van Bags, Yo

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