Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Am I, artist - Dirty Dike. Album song Bogies & Alcohol, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 04.07.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
Am I |
| Am I wack like your first show? |
| Or am I bad like a black magic curse |
| No I’m fat like a burst nose |
| Clap from the back to the third row |
| Back slappin' birds am I just a sack of words and some cracked bones? |
| Am I lost in this bucket full of knuckleheads? |
| Fucking messed scuffles when you’re drunk and theres nothing said |
| Am I missin' out on love in my public bed? |
| Nothing best trust but I’m stuck puffin' skunk instead |
| Am I tough as lead? |
| Cuss what my mother said |
| Trapped 'til I spread rubbish dust now we’re huggin' less |
| Am I causing your husband some sudden stress |
| Or am I just another bumpkin thats under dressed |
| None the less |
| They say I’m tight like a shrunken vest, why? |
| 'Cos I’m fucking fresh, rhyming like drunken sex |
| Am I trapped in the spiral of drugs and death |
| The vinyl that’s scratched or the cries when your mother’s dead |
| I’m in your mind when it bubbles red |
| So I’m like five tons 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 script 'til 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? |
| Shall I snorkel my way through the thoughts of my shallow brain |
| And not pause 'til I’m back again? |
| Am I gorpin' in pain at my war face or am I vain? |
| Am I the skin of the drum that you’re tappin' 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 mates arse? |
| My rap breaks glass and takes half your mates bars |
| Straight past ancient days and leaves great scars |
| Leaves great fucking scars, yeah |
| Am I the tidbits, the what is this? |
| The hot business? |
| Who’s 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 thats an obvious blag |
| Am I captain piss man’s colostomy bag? |
| Or a spot in your mag or a slag getting robbed? |
| Oh God this is mad I’ll just dodge it and plan |
| To escape the fates and be free when I suffocate |
| Nothings changed, drunk, puffin' eighths in a fucking state |
| In a fucking state |
| Fuck off |
| Am I the missing link? |
| Hobbit feet, tree swinging monkey grin |
| Tectonic hints of a stone-faced chiseled 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? |
| Through righteous limbs and ligaments, for instance |
| Imagination figments illuminate the darkness in the distance |
| Am I paddling like pimps in down dead man’s curve? |
| Or am I drinking pints of piss just like a bed pan perv? |
| Until my head can swerves, is this the head case hurts? |
| Smuggling verbs over across vidicodes you choose to observe |
| Am I that class A dude spitting class A tunes at dark venues? |
| Find me in blacked out backrooms |
| Of the man on the moon strapping head shoots |
| While simultaneously cooking up some scag in a spoon |
| Am I that cynic with many lyrics? |
| The devil with existential metaphysics questions in the age of scripts to paint |
| the minds of millions? |
| Or am I another one of many earth bound spirits? |
| Tried to fight the theorists only to find I’m made in his image |
| Am I just a set of useless shapes and shady remarks? |
| A person can bode the penny’s chaupar shining, what? |
| The shadiest parts |
| Wrist slit as I lay in the bath |
| I see a red sea embark |
| Even Moses couldn’t part with his magical staff |
| Satanical scars, diagonal charms |
| See I’m the man 'til I’m outreaching my mechanical maniacal scars |
| Spitting cannibal bars |
| Filled with sicker imagery than a VHS of Animal Farm |
| Am I that man who walks in circles never learning a thing? |
| Almost regressing every second through a blaze before I felt I figure 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 with over-rapid ivory hits |
| Echoing inside grand piano lids? |
| Or am I the software packages that cut and paste the symphonies for kings into |
| a bangin' loop of gigs? |
| Am I the sun-dance kid? |
| Am I the matrix glitch? |
| Am I the dusty vinyl scratches and skips these amazing scripts? |
| See its weed-psychosis of a garbage pail kid |
| I never stabbed him in the ribs it was the demons in my mind that did |
| Am I the last laughing lager lout? |
| Downing car scales in large amounts before last orders, fast passing out |
| Fastest bastard about to blast an ounce |
| Who’s barred from half the bars in town? |
| Am I Ed Scissortongue? |
| What? |
| His alter ego’s got me going psycho over songs |
| Am I that wack jam host, likes to backhand foes? |
| It’s best advised that you avoid him like a pac-man ghost |