The Forecast ft PT Fresh

from by CASA

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Meteor showered the preacher, breathing loud on the beat but/
with rhymes that could straighten the leaning tower of Pisa/
believe us.. since the towers are bent its/
found lurching around down canals up in Venice, see/
iv been out to Venice beach with a round of Hennessy (yuk)/
that i downed, i tend to be drowned an left at sea/
now the heavy breeds, said to me they'd fled the streets
I posted this shit to pete, yeah the letter reads/
we take the scene by storm, you can feel a change is coming/
check the forecast and don't walk passed when you see brave are running/
saved it for something huh, our rap its completely different/
perhaps the weak will give in, given the tracks i speak persistent/
a quiet crowed, call it the silence of the lambs/
exiting a riot promoting violence to the fans/
I'm spiraling a trance, stomach bile in my hand/
while the mans standing as the damn tyrant of the land
huh, what i say in my line and lyrics/
scratched on the walls and painted in hieroglyphics/
my time has shifted the game but I came to save it/
since i come from a place where the shadows stained the pavement/
its faded enough to paint a picture with no color/
just black and white, its sinking in slow, some are/
at the brink of the scope before i go just let me finish/
*cough* pete take over for a minute, shit/

PT Fresh verse

they'll be tryna changed there flow the time cas came/
but ima stay blind till i explode like a flash bang/
slow mo like Max Payne with penicillin injections-/
like concealing a weapon when this pen is killin infections/
there stealing my sentence, ripped a page from my scripture/
amazing, ill have your camp blazing like Hitlers/
erased from the picture like I'm back to the future/
have you cut from your supply like I attack your producer./
bodies stuffed in my basement like a taxidermist/
the graphic version, cut your face like plastic surgeons/
you couldn't scratch the surface if you were wolverine/
like every tracks verse is, you haven't fooled the scene/
and your tools are clean but claim you put work in/
you stick your shovel in the dirt but it aint for the purpose/
an i sculled half a pint of a paint tin now I'm color blind/
i spit leaches with the same wings as a butterfly/
summon rhymes in my stomach with creatures of other kinds/
that breed but some divid an proceed to then come alive/
deprived of these beats, battling stress spitting my forte/
I walked through the valley of death, littered the walkway/
called a priest to then come help defend us from these demons/
bleeding out on a track like my pen does when its leaking/
see i use to be frighten of these heights when i was younger/
stand on skyscrapers now to catch light when it thunders/


from UNORTHODOX, released November 1, 2013
Beat: Anno Domini Beats



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