Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Typical Daze, artist - Dirty Dike. Album song Bogies & Alcohol, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.07.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
Typical Daze |
I wake late for a typical day |
Of getting pissed till it’s difficult, but isn’t it strange? |
It ain’t miserable, wishing that the limit would raise |
To a simple bit of spirit in my lyrical rage |
I riddle flipping pages that’s miracle laced |
Until you ring all your mates and tell them «listen to James» |
Tickle his brain and scribble his name like hitting the train |
A villainous mate you wouldn’t want a kick in the face |
Cause I gaze distant, I’ll play with your sisters |
And mate I’m as dangerous as pacing with scissors |
I’ll make hits blatantly making you face it |
You’re saved in my database list full of fake shits |
Take this! |
Now I’m just wasted and laid back |
Inhale the vapours that raise from my eighth sack |
Jade-rapping James with the payback and mate that |
Is straight fact, breaking the scales like your waist fat |
My stage act collapses and now it’s back to my habitat |
Act like a lab rat trapped in an aggy rap |
And fuck carpet burns, she’ll get a scabby back |
Stabby stab stab till her fanny is a baggy gash |
And I’m just using rude words |
To scoop dirt, flirt with the tune, abuse my new verse |
Future first, think last, drink from a pink glass |
Lined with the brink, but I sink fast |
Wink glass eyes at the stars, but I can’t fly |
Can’t buy half the laughs in this harsh life |
I ask why and all I get is an odd look |
Of friends trying to answer this nonsense with God books |
It’s me missing maths and my head can’t figure sums |
Hitting drums, licking out your sister with a vicious tongue |
With a little run for your money, sprint quicker son |
I’ve listened to your lyrics for some spirit and there isn’t none |
So isn’t your mum a little bit dumb |
For letting six different husbands deliver the cum |
Some come rhythm-less, kick a fuss up and get your innards bust |
Scissored up viciously until your fucking pissing puss |
Plus giving sluts love with your little slug |
It’s sick as fuck, give it up bitches and listen up |
Cause oh dear you’re in trouble now, shut your mouth |
Dike’s coming out with a sound and it’s fucking loud |
Drown as my thunder cloud shouts out the underground |
Running round clubs with an ounce up his fucking snout |
Being me, that’s a big joke |
Never quit smoking and wear shit clothes at discos |
The nose-picking hobo hopes for a sick show |
Wishbone slips as I focus and tiptoe |
Spit flows doper than most of you pricks know |
Piss-soaked lyricist wishing that this shit blows |
Ghost float mission levitate with a head of snakes |
Never say never to the heavens when the devil waits |
Clever mates trying to beg when the record breaks |
Weapons raised, sabers displayed, let’s celebrate |