Lyrics Sepia - Dirty Dike, Jam Baxter, Mr Key

Sepia

Dirty Dikestar
(2MSMB)
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(Too many of them steep fuckin steps)
Steep fucking steps
Wha?
This is life mate try make it easier
I paint my eyeballs a light shade of sepia
I wake at nightfall five days a week
And I’m shite faced
My minds all sideways
I’m creeping at my pace
As white chalk lines frame the scene of the crime wave
Believing that time waits for each of yours blind faith
If your piece of the pie’s tastin' sweeter than mine
Mate, I’ll eat you as live bait!
'Cos I tried to bust rough when I was needia
But never held it down like I suffered with bulemia
And now I’m fucking with a team full of freaks
And we’re soon to be a feast for the scum suckin' media
Dumb fuck
Your season of dumb luck is reaching a slump son
I mean it, I’m pumped up and greedier for fresh meat
I’m neck deep in the next beat
Head feenin' to get lean
Your featureless men speak as real as a wet dream
Its reek on your bed sheets
Asleep in the the steamiest sex scenes
My pen speaks for the people that get me
You get me ya pricks?
I’m just sweeping your mess clean
So peace to Dirty Dike and Hieronymus Bosh
Mr Key turns inside every lock that you got!
So what-what?
what what
Cause I see in sepia
Deep-deep in sepia
And I’mma stay creepier
Creepier!
Creepier!
Creepier than a meeting with Mr. A
Jam Baxter, Mr. Key and a bit of James
That’s me and we bring the vicious pain
A complete waste like a needle that’s missed the vein
So take a seat in my picture frame
As we flicker straight images
And speak in a bitter state
Pissed again and my room is a grubby mess
Stuck in debt stress
And there’s too many fucking steps!
I’m fucked up in bed late with my eyes closed
Soaking in my slow life of live shows
But Dike knows it’s a matter of time
Cause dope rhymes flow fatter than a map in the sky
Check it
There’s no hope til I happen to find
Guys joke with the habit of attacking a mic
My mind opens and widens with every line spoken
In silence I grow, stiff inside I lie frozen
I say «Hi» with a kiss when I’ve woken
Wishing my life will exist when I’m broken
Pisshead spokesman
Lenses in sepia
Creep through my deep-blue speech till I’m sleepier
I’ve got beef and never leave it alone
I vivisect rippers ripping fresh meat from the bone
SMB!
CP the throne
In sepia, Key’s a freak, in a league of his own
Creeping alone, deep in the sepia tone
To reach in a peak I speak till your speakers are blown
And police on the phone are telling me to shut the fuck up!
Keep on your toes or you’re coming unstuck
That’s, tough luck like scag in a pubfight
Scabs on my pus dried up from a rough night
Snuff white in a lab full of dustmites
Rags on the fuck mic
Rap till it bust tight
Shook, still racking my brains
As the crabs in my guts ravenous pains
Back in the days
I rapped like I’m shackled in chains
Now I’m bad like a tramp putting scag in his veins
That’s just a matter of a pattern of phrase
As the rats rampage in this cancerous age
I’m bad taste, mate, fuck keeping it crisp
I’m cheap like deep-fried pieces of shit!
So peace to Daze, Jam Backer and Bosh
And Dirty Dike’ll ride any slapper you’ve got
So what-what!