| So, you sat and wrote yourself a dirty tune
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| Pissed off at home, (Why?)
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| Cos nobody has heard of you
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| I smirk at dudes from YouTube who only wanna murder crews
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| I heard your battle rap and it was wack and you rehearsed it too
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| (Dirty Who?)
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| Dike, with a mind like it’s senile
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| At least I’ll clash a rapper in a cipher and it’s freestyle
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| Meanwhile, I’ll listen to these kids
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| I’m thinking it’s ridiculous that you can piss a written out and think it’s sick
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| Listen, prick. |
| It’s not about 'I'm dropping, it’s hot.'
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| Using fillers like a dickhead who’s forgotten to stop
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| It’s Top of the Pops for cocks
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| I don’t want it to stop
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| It’s just not fucking hip hop, you honourless knobs
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| So what have you got?
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| Another mouth of goo for your man’s face
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| Plus a couple thousand views on your fan page, (I'm killing it!)
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| Where’s your album or your talent?
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| Where’s your tunes, mate?
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| Too late, it’s you:
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| The new and improved tube steak
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| We take part in a passion with hidden purpose
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| And handle it as part of the pattern
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| We’re never nervous
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| Half of it’s the rambling madness of clever hermits
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| The other half’s embarrassing blaggers that’s penning verses
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| My mind’s designed like an assembly line for the rhymes
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| Never slowing production at any time
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| You could put aside 9 months to write your little pantomimes
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| It still gets no shine next to mine
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| They bought a kilo with their alter ego
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| I’ve got more libido in a swim tuxedo
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| Watch the way you talk to me, though
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| Sicker than a paedo in a pair of Speedos
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| And a J-cloth to wipe the sprays off of my torpedo
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| Dirty Dike and Dabbla
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| Got them in the corner shitting like a soldier suffering Post Traumatic Stress
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| Disorder
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| Style that blessed the aura while you’re just a cheesy joker
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| And your battles fall into the category of mediocre
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| So what’s the deal with all this rapping over silence
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| Where you banter back and forth about imaginary violence?
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| You ain’t fucking with these giants
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| Slice you off a portion of the rawness
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| Rocking like Romanian orphans
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| We take part in a passion with hidden purpose
|
| And handle it as part of the pattern
|
| We’re never nervous
|
| Half of it’s the rambling madness of clever hermits
|
| The other half’s embarrassing blaggers that’s penning verses |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rapping Over Silence , by - Dirty Dike. Song from the album Return of the Twat, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп