"WND" lyrics - ATMOSPHERE

It's summer and I'm chillin on my steps with my little crew
Just like a video, just like all the little rappers do
We voice love to the heads we know that walk past
Sunshine and smilin', livin' out of a shot glass

And I talk fast when it comes to girls
"Hey baby, I'm just a nut tryin' to fuck a squirrel.
Maybe we could shut the world up
Let some Slug into your life."
Suddenly she hikes an eyebrow up, like
"What do you mean?" and I start buggin' like

"If I was to follow you home would you keep me?
Would you feed me? Would you pet me?
Would I fuck you till your sleepy?"
She said I'm creepy and walked off
Too late, I already got off on the fact you even stopped
You knew I'd treat you like an object

You knew I was a rapper, you knew it was the trend
For us rapper men to disrespect women in front of friends
Nonetheless, here comes that kid Sean that I used to be cool with
Went to school with, now this kid is talkin' fool shit

Gettin' super touchy with his lips about
How I stuck his bitch supposedly
What the fuck is this supposed to be?
Sean's got nuts, he's alone, I'm with crew
Now tell me what the fuck am I supposed to do?

I spew, "Look, cheap users make believers of cartoons.
And I happen to know your bitch sleeps in until the afternoon.
Honestly, my man, you don't bother me.
'Cause everybody bleeds, now go and ask your seed who his father be."

I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"

Now Sean kicked my ass, I ain't gonna lie, ain't gonna laugh
It wasn't fun, but fuck 'im, I'mma get my gun
Shit like that gets done in the world of rap
If they pushin' on your private, just a pussy if it slides

So I sprint up three flights, didn't do the feet wipe on the door
Draggin' dirt and blood on the rug and the wood floor
Couldn't believe my squad just stood there and watched
Word to God, Spawn tellin me to blame it on my cock

I'm amped and I'mma shoot every motherfucker out there
I'm ill and I'mma prove that shit when I get back downstairs
Into the bedroom, my passion aimed at the closet
Visualizing the top shelf, that's where the shoebox is

I push the top up, enough to fit my hand in
Reach into the box in a frenzy, realizing that it's empty
Hand rests in the box, head festers in an open stun
Then I remember, I don't even own a gun (oh shit)

"What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"

I'm like "What, What, What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What, What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What" (I'm like) "What kid, What"
I'm like "What, What, What, What"

Writers Never Die
Writers Never Die
Writers Never Die