Travel

We travel like the wind across the rotten-fruited plain
We travel like the blood that surrounds your brain
Atmosphere has landed, demandin that we raise the curve
Expand the kingdom, calling all heads of the earth

The first tour brought us all the way to Dallas
Seven deep in the MPV to keep the balance
A van full of talent, with no place to sleep
Hey yo abuse, do you really think this food is safe to eat?
Yo peace to that kid they call orgy (check this out)
Without him, no heads in Texas would know me
That fellow hooked us up with a hotel, and mics to rip on
And Deep Ellum is decorated with Rhyme Sayers stickers
And that same journey took me to Kansas City Missouri
I think Danny boy still owes me money for tapes
I met a rider names Gear who let us crash on his floor
And drank a 30 pack of beer with that kid dirty Dave
From the Rave to the why not, why not love Milwaukee
Aaron Way and JB got that late night hype
The rusty pelicans are eloquent at rocking a party
And my man Cell one keeps the jam hella tight
And speaking of tight, have you ever been to Atlanta?
That's where the micronauts live, cool lock and I self
Hey yo Shocka, I vow how until the end of now
No matter what where what why how, mi casa es su casa
You gotta love St. Louis, where the culture's awake
With the dance, the paint, the beats and the rhymes
Yo peace to be money, in so long, no matter where I go
Seems like a always leave a piece of me behind

We travel like the wind across the rotten-fruited plain
We travel like the blood that surrounds your brain
Atmosphere has landed, demandin that we raise the curve
And let the mans work stand behind his words

I gotta give my peace to the people out east
My man Amall, standing tall in the belly of the beast
In adium lounge, and out in N-H, hold a space on your couch
For when I make it that way
Yo aliens I feel your pain
So keep saving the children and keep praying for rain
Cause when the water falls, the puddles will never drain
And they'll discover the love that lives in Maine
There's a garden that's growing out in Baltimore
Lab tech runs voice through a monitor
Philadelphia, New Jersey, and Boston on the paper,
In the car, I get lost quite often
Crossing the border to Canada, and watching it grow
6'2 In buck, 65 knee deep in snow
Aaron Knewal introduced me to the newfi groupies
And the Toronto, Doc's got the studio hot
New York, New York, big city of dreams
Get with me when you're ready to be part of the team
My man Aesop Rock, prepped the theories for the launch
And in the Bronx, it's where Mike Ladd holds the Conch
And out west, yes, the weather's blessed
But I could never mess with ya'lls earthquakes
I'm trying to live to see another birthday, so
I'll only visit for a minute to kick it with Sole
Mood swing, and a con, and a cron and nole,
DJ fingers down in San Diego
Gotta a sense of my flows, for the wake up show
Yo did you feel that tremor?
I think its time for us to go

We travel like the wind across the rotten-fruited plain
We travel like the blood that surrounds your brain
Atmosphere has landed, demandin that we raise the curve
Moving town to town, looking for work. Cincinnati!

Dose one is a weirdo, Mr. Dibbs is a hobo
Illogic is my hero, I give nobody a promo
Moid Pippis in the studio, with Yonie on the Oboe
And no no, you cannot play with Lioness's yo-yo
And to Chicago! I don't even know where to start
Every time I leave your parks, you keep a piece of my heart
The Double Door, Royal, Berama, and the Metro
Rubber Room, spow juice, lawful, unnatural
We're all trying to get there; the truth is we get along
So peace to the soldiers from the parlor to gramophone
And love to HBK, and AMC, and NUR
And DJ PNS needs a new cassette deck in his car
You can catch me free styling on top of Bowman Breaks
But trying to think of something sick to drop on vinyl, add in kicks, bass
And to my little brother Gel, what the hell, its time to party
We should dip to Mardi Grau, and find ourselves some women
I travel with ant; we travel at the speed of tongue
No matter where I'm at, I don't forget where I'm from
In your Walkman, or in your girlfriend, it's all alike
I'm just grateful that I'm capable of holding this mic
And holding it tight, and knowing what's right
And showing some light, and glowing so bright

We travel like the wind across the rotten-fruited plain
We travel like the blood that surrounds your brain
Atmosphere has landed, demandin that we raise the curve
I'm trying to fill you all before I leave this Earth...