Dirty Dike, Mr Key, Jam Baxter - Sepia lyrics
Jam Baxter
[Dirty Dike, Mr Key, Jam Baxter - Sepia lyrics]
Dirty Dikestar (2MSMB)
Contact Play
(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 wait's 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!
Contact Play
(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 wait's 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!