This is a song about "The atmosphere"

The more battles the better the flows

So while you worry about the hoes

I don't know, obviously i disappear

I'm looking down on the atmosphere

We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between

I spitting bars the metronome the money machine

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Aroma, strong enough to bring ‘em outta coma

I'm looking down on the atmosphere

She shift my gears and whispered in my ear

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

Out of the atmosphere, world in a bubble

Herpes virus, yeah bitch, i fought one

The bigger the the fun