Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Like My Nights Dark, artist - Dirty Dike. Album song Acrylic Snail, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.12.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
I Like My Nights Dark |
I have been mean |
Pity, unjust, sinful, vicious, horrible |
I have been mean |
They were babies in the crèche trying to weld their heads together |
Like street-cornered gimps trying to sell their flesh forever |
They spent the summer sweating in December weather |
Trying to line the pockets of their barely breathing debt collector |
Treat every animal as a fungal disease |
And filed every lost year as a smudge on my jeans |
I walked past the beggar clutching his knees |
Plump tear-ducts like a swelling pustule that bleeds |
He ate his corpse and caught a virus |
I chewed through the city with these reinforced incisors as I absorb detritus |
Crimson gums stuffed with titanium |
Flicking through my future like an uninterested alien |
Cradling my cranium, wrapped around a cheap floozy |
The star of every under-budget B-movie |
I sat still and let this liquor eat through me |
Guzzling your envious intentions in a green smoothie |
I like my nights dark |
I like my streets empty |
Every alleyway’s my bitch, when I’m walking through the bits |
Got them bricks green with envy |
I like my nights dark |
And I like my streets empty |
Every alleyway’s my bitch, when I’m walking to my crib |
Until the pigs fucking get me |
Me and death on a stretch pad, petrol in the air when I rev |
We met desperate, I was selling dead leopards in debt |
He said, «I sell tellies, spell letters and yes» |
Repel any help, levelly respect it and jet |
We gelled steadily, pelling like his cloak in the wind |
I’d tell you everything I know if I could only begin |
Stroking his chin, stopping as I hop off the back |
Knots in my back, swear I’ve got my hospital swag |
Osteopath, doctors couldn’t stop what I have |
Bad posture, mad lust, sad slub and I’m glad |
Another record I’ll be stuck in your brain |
Money and fame can suck a fucking bucket of pain |
I place love and courage well above a thumb in the cake |
And hate coming up as nothing but a fucking disgrace |
The muffins, the fenestrated twenty fake cousins |
With a getaway truck to make whatever say something |
And I’ve still got balls to break, walls to paint |
A stack of mister CBs for Paul to take |
You stay small while I’m smacking off a dream that we share |
Beat with a snare, doesn’t even seem like I care |
Teeth of a bear, penis made of Jesus' hair |
When I speak, I kick frees to the squeak of my chair |
Beast in the lair, diamond with a chip in the dirt |
Deserved every bit of prison that he did and he served |
Split with his bird, at first being single was worse |
But then he figured his existence in a singular word |
He kept a secret like a kid on a graff' charge |
Act hard, screaming with a gram and a cash card |
Splat scars, fat slappers, anchor and crash cars |
Adam’s apple ragged as a back of a slapped arse |
I like my nights dark |
I like my streets empty |
Every alleyway’s my bitch, when I’m walking through the bits |
Got them bricks green with envy |
I like my nights dark |
And I like my streets empty |
Every alleyway’s my bitch, when I’m walking to my crib |
Until the pigs fucking get me |