Sepia - Dirty Dike, Jam Baxter, Mr Key

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 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!