Atmosphere - Cats Van Bags (remix) lyrics

(Slug) We travel in a missile, weaving through your cornfields Leaving behind a trail of amateur p**n and orange peels Navigating through this basement That masquerades as a nation Practicing my acetate masturbation Watching 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? (Brother Ali) Shoot through it as a unit with the best of my crew Pumping melodies and memories too, my head's k**ing me (Oooh) Stomach empty, my bladder is full Two year old son on Jaybird phone Crying, missing me And I'm starving, I'll bite your arm off Saber tooth tiger, run the night with the sharp claws In your back yard just to f** with your guard dogs Throw a brick through your sh**, come cut the alarm off (Slug) f** yes I do my best to take advantage in bouts With one hand over the mouth, still managing to shout There's more said within the lines of your forehead Then they could ever try to fine print on the inside of that warhead Cross Country, like a little lost junkie Make 'em hot and jumpy, trying to get that God money Steering the van through the blizzards, the fanfare Pivot when we visit, spit victim if you stand there (Brother Ali) Check a map of this picture, throw a dart at it That's where We took a room back full of kids and threw a heart at it Angry like a hostage Kicking like a little b**h in one of Dibbs's mosh pits Shifting through your city limits, trying to find the raw sh** Thread a needle with it and weave a world of heads together 'Til we get em carsick Face full of war paint, strapped ready for action Battle cry just trying to seek the satisfaction of the captain (Slug) Climbed over the side, closed his eyes Took a dive into his famed inspiration for staying alive Swam to the shore Stepped upon land Walked up to a who*e Grabbed her by the hand and said Hook: Let the wheels spin, Let the room shake, Let the speakers blow Let the light 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 curbs up, Cats Van Bags Yo! (Brother Ali) Lock eyes with a thousand people at the same time They mind believe in us My style of graffiti is Squeezing just the Midwest sweat out of my shirt And leaving with my life essence embedded in your dirt (Slug) We work, move, and hustle with the rest of the gypsies Spoon feed these issues to a new school of fishies Swimming through a hazy shade of pa**ion Here they come, the Hazelden has-been And his chapter (Brother Ali) Yea, that's them, the migrant seasonal workers The finest imperial wordsmiths on the circuit Two million smiles and running Stomping, trying to flee the heat Turn around shooting at the monster till his knees are weak (Slug) They call me Jesus Freak, I came to listen Then I save you Then I make you my favorite position Chasing this pigeon down the street towards the banks Just in case my my traffic receives Jeeps and tanks (Both) And we wander through this soul So let it be known Mama I don't know if I'm a ever be home The revolution won't have any distribution I love my son and my music so I gotta keep it moving like Hook Let the wheels spin, Let the room shake, Let the speakers blow Let the light 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 curbs up, Cats Van Bags Yo!