Another banger from Dike’s first album. Dike’s got some classic bars on this one, and as usual Ed Scissor comes through with his safe as fuck flow and some mind-twisting imagery.
VERSE 1:
DIRTY DIKE
- Am I wack like your first show
- Or am I bad like a black magic curse
- Nah I’m fat like a burst nose
- Clap from the back to the third row
- Back-slapping birds
- Am I just a sack of words and some cracked bones
- Am I lost in this bucket full of knuckle heads
- Fucking mess scuffles when you’re drunk and there’s nothing said
- Am I missing out on love in my public bed? Rough it
- Best trust, but I’m stuck puffing skunk instead
- Am I tough as lead? Cuss what my mother said
- Trapped in life’s bread rubbish dust, now we’re hugging less
- Am I causing your husband some sudden stress
- Or am I just another bumpkin that’s underdressed
- Nonetheless
- They say I’m tight like a shrunken vest
- Why? Cause I’m fucking fresh
- Rhyming like drunken sex
- Am I trapped in the spiral of drugs and debt
- The vinyl that scratch or the cries when you’re mother’s dead
- I’m in your mind when it bubbles red
- So I’m like 5 tonnes of trouble when there’s nothing left
- A sick muddle
- Am I a kiss or a big cuddle
- Am I a big fat shit or a sick puddle
- Am I the dick muscle twitch when your bitch struggles
- This is it, juggle this, grip till I spit rubble
- Quick swiftness shit, am I a bit pissed
- Sick as the switchblade gripped by the thick stubble
- Am I normal or am I sane
- Should I snorkel my way through the thoughts of my shallow grave
- And not pause till I’m back again
- Am I gawping in pain at my war face or am I vain
- Am I the skin of the drum that you’re tapping on
- Clap along, let your head snap to a happy song
- Am I a back stage pass or a smile as wide as your fat mate’s ass
- My rap breaks glass and takes half your mate’s bars
- Straight past ancient days and leaves great scars
- Leaves great fucking scars
- Am I the titbits
- The what is this
- The hot business whose got spirit
- And only stops to rock lyrics
- A novelist
- With a lot of shit in his oesophagus
- The doctor said stop but I’m lost so I’ve got to spit
- What is this?
- And that’s an obvious blag
- Am I Captain Pissman’s colostomy bag
- Or a spot in your mag or a slag getting robbed on
- God this is mad I’ll just dodge it and plan
- To escape the fakes and be free when I suffocate
- Nothing’s changed, drunk puffing eights in a fucking state
VERSE 2:
ED SCISSORTONGUE
- Am I the missing link
- Hobbit-feet tree-swinging monkey grin
- Tectonic ends of a stone-faced chiselled chin
- Am I the will to win
- Like a million men who missioned in the depths of winter to stop Nazi militia men pillaging their villages
- Man am I the village idiot
- Who dribbles mic deliverance, spinning the riddled synonyms
- Fractured limbs and ligaments
- For instance imagination figments illuminate the darkness in the distance
- Am I paddling like ???? in that Dead Man’s curve
- Or am I drinking pints of piss just like a bed pan perve
- Until my head can’t swerve
- Is this the head-case heard
- Smuggling birds that across ???? you choose to observe
- Am I that Class A dude spitting Class A tunes at dark venues
- Find me in blacked out back rooms of the man on the moon
- Strapping headshoots
- While simultaneously cooking up some skag in a spoon
- Am I that cynic with many lyrics
- That dabble with existential metaphysics
- Questioning the ancient scripts that paint the minds of millions
- Or am I another one of many earth-bound spirits
- Trying to fight the fear if only to find that they’re made in his image
- Am I just a set of useless shapes and shady remarks
- A person composed of penny shop parts
- Trying to walk the shadiest parks
- Wrist-slitters that lay in the bars
- I see a red sea embark even Moses couldn’t part with his magical staff
- Satanical scars, diagonal charms
- See I’m the man to outreach in my mechanical maniacal arms
- Spitting cannibal bars
- Filled with sicker imagery than a VHS of animal farm
- Am I the man that walks in circles never learning a thing
- Almost regressing every second through a blaze before I felt I figured my sins
- A single organism twitching
- Before the axis of the earth had ever started to spin
- Am I the vibrating hammer on the strings of a boat rapping ivory hits
- Echoing inside grand piano lids
- Or am I the software packages that cut and paste the symphonies for kings into a banging loop of gigs
- Am I the Sun Dance Kid
- Am I the Matrix glitch
- Am I the dusty vinyl scratch that skips these amazing scripts
- See it’s, weird psychosis of a garbage mail kid
- I never stabbed him in the ribs, it was the demons in my mind that did
- Am I the last-laughing lager loud downing cask ales in large amounts
- Before last orders, fast passing out
- Fastest bastard about to blast an ounce
- Whose barred from half the bars in town
- Am I Ed Scissortongue Pablo-esque-????-tron
- Or has this alter ego got my going psycho over songs
- Am I that wack jam host
- Who likes to backhand flows
- Its best advised that you avoid him like a Pacman ghost
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