Dead Players - Dirt Cloud lyrics

Sort it Out come on man sort it out!
Fire! Ha, yeah
Ya see

We’ve been running through the
Same dark corridors
You don’t wanna spar with a
Style that’ll body yours
What you try’na holla for
We ain't on the same page
Fronting on the main stage
Crying that the games changed
This girls like damn he’s got
Suttin to do with suttin
I guess I better do everything in
My power to fuck him
Man if jealously was edible she’d
Fill a whole carriage
On the next train to no
Where stacking that baggage
Dealing with all sorts of longingness
Prominence, bopping and moving
The futures ominous
Synonymous brainwaves is coming to you
Live from the bottomless pit
Signed anonymous
Welcome to the Dead Player Members Club
Countless swinging nooses and the bruises
And the flesh and guts never look
Losing life in seconds son and pressure guts
Cerebellum swelling up (What?)
Tell ‘em to remember us!

I swear down
It’s like every time we turn round
Everything is burnt down
When the dust settle from the dirt cloud
Shut up! Dead Players all up in your pantry
Frankly fuck ‘em, my sentiments exactly

I swear down
It’s like every time we turn round
Everything is burnt down
When the dust settle from the dirt cloud
Shut up! Dead Players all up in your pantry
Frankly fuck ‘em, my sentiments exactly

Harpoons to you sardines
Leaking to your dark jeans
Me, I’ll be higher than Giraffe lean
Soon to be amazingly explicit, is it
Shit's getting stranger by the minute
Just when I thought I sniffed a
Line in every cubicle in town
I found myself in Hell’s gents
Ramming bugle in my snout
Super human sputa infusing in the mouth
Grab a soup spill students
Glew ‘em to the ground
That’s right, it’s that quick fire get high
Run along a zip wire
Hating on because we just a bit fly
Taking any way you wanna send ‘em, end ‘em
DPC initials are the emblem
Yeah, deflect the attention
The cris king corner shon
Pickled in his juice getting loose
With a snorkel on
And the list of dizzy heights
That I’ve fallen from
Form a long path for the master to walk along

I swear down
It’s like every time we turn round
Everything is burnt down
When the dust settle from the dirt cloud
Shut up! Dead Players all up in your pantry
Frankly fuck ‘em, my sentiments exactly

I swear down
It’s like every time we turn round
Everything is burnt down
When the dust settle from the dirt cloud
Shut up! Dead Players all up in your pantry
Frankly fuck ‘em, my sentiments exactly

Slicker than owl shit, devour shit
Shit that I shouldn’t come out with
Should low it
Ain’t a fan that can out spit the outfit
Look at them all getting nostalgic about it
Yeah loud and nostalgia
I bounced out of town and found
Them all drowning in sauerkraut salsa
Heads buried under ground and hung
Around their shoulder blades
Thin tin medals from a long lost golden age
Rappers banging on about the mash
Need to stop it thinking like a pimp trying
To maximise their profit
Its hard to tell the truth
What you don’t seem to realise
Is you’re the prostitute
And they’ve got you in the their pocket
As long as I’m equip with a
Middle finger to hold aloft
A tall glass of everything will
Surely shake the vultures off
Hold the clock
Wait it’s kicking in we’re kicking out
Last seen cramming all my winnings
In my grinning mouth

I swear down
It’s like every time we turn round
Everything is burnt down
When the dust settle from the dirt cloud
Shut up! Dead Players all up in your pantry
Frankly fuck ‘em, my sentiments exactly

I swear down
It’s like every time we turn round
Everything is burnt down
When the dust settle from the dirt cloud
Shut up! Dead Players all up in your pantry
Frankly fuck ‘em, my sentiments exactly