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dirty dike - typical daze lyrics
[verse 1: dirty dike]
i wake late for a typical day
of getting p-ssed 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 sh-ts
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 f-ck carpet burns, she’ll get a scabby back
stabby stab stab till her f-nny 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 gl-ss
lined with the brink, but i sink fast
wink gl-ss 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
[verse 2: dirty dike]
it’s me missing maths and my head can’t figure sums
hitting drums, l!cking 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 c-m
some come rhythm-less, kick a fuss up and get your innards bust
scissored up viciously until your f-cking p-ssing p-ss
plus giving sl-ts love with your little slug
it’s sick as f-ck, give it up b-tches and listen up
cause oh dear you’re in trouble now, shut your mouth
dike’s coming out with a sound and it’s f-cking loud
drown as my thunder cloud shouts out the underground
running round clubs with an ounce up his f-cking snout
being me, that’s a big joke
never quit smoking and wear sh-t 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 pr-cks know
p-ss-soaked lyricist wishing that this sh-t 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
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