Lyrics 40 Below - Pats feat. The Kyd

First it rains then it pours
And the wind is knocking down your door
And you realize what's in store
And you realize you're the storm
You're the storm

I'm a sadistic twist of Ma$e and Limp Bisc
Burn a blank disc and let your mind rip
That postal nasal drip, too sick like Covid
Big pimpin' like Hova
Roller coaster with the flow cus the drop real
This life surreal, went from little kid meals to big deals
Peeled off the mask now my pores exposed
Beats force the pump like N.O. Explode
Make a hater implode and die slow
Witness my growth
20 at a show to Pillsbury dough
I got the Illbury flow and Goose fo sho
I write faster than a cheetah after a pita
LandShark and a margarita
Mama Mia, Pats with the heater no Derek Jeter but I rep my city proud
Spot me in a crowd
Ginger with tattoos
Fuck these taboos
Play against Pats you bound to lose
Get bruised like a peach
Reach I teach, step in my crease
Get bodied, capiche

First it rains then it pours
And the wind is knockin down your door
And you realize what's in store
And you realize you're the storm
You're the storm

Ya know I'm often distant cuz my darkness hidden
Sitting, always ought to witness the mama zipping
Off the alcoholic fixes, the papa riffing
Raucous, pitching a hostile opposition to bottle sipping
They'd pop up dissing, when I saw, I'd ditch 'em
Go to the dock and listen to Nas and Big and
Awkwardly attempt to jot some writtens
My confidence been so preponderant since then
And the cause permitting be hip-hop, make rhythms
Vietnam in minutes, genius, calm replenished
These lips all contentious when I scrawl a sentence
A squalid menace, prospects unpromised with a hodgepodge of gimmicks
It's gone diminished, I'm like Charlie Dickens, a novelist I carve and enlargen schisms
The props I'm missing cuz I mock traditions
Of the environment the higher men will market this in

First it rains then it pours
And the wind is knockin down your door
And you realize what's in store
And you realize you're the storm
You're the storm