[Verse 1: Dirty Dike]
Am I wack like your first show
Or am I bad like a black magic curse
No I'm fat like a burst nose
Clap from the back to the third row
Back slappin' birds am I just a sack of words and some cracked bones
Am I lost in this bucket full of knuckleheads
f**ing messed scuffles when you're drunk and theres nothing said
Am I missin' out on love in my public bed
Nothing yet trust but I'm stuck puffin' skunk instead
Am I tough as lead, cuss what my mother said
Trapped 'til I spread rubbish dust now we're huggin' less
Am I causing your husband some sudden stress
Or am I just another bumpkin thats under dressed
None the less
They say I'm tight like a shrunken vest, why?
'Cos I'm f**ing fresh, rhyming like drunken s**
Am I trapped in the spiral of d** and d**h
The vinyl that's scratched or the cries when your mother's dead
I'm in your mind when it bubbles red
So I'm like five tons of trouble when there's nothing left
A sick muddle, am I a kiss or a big cuddle
Am I a big fat sh** or a sick puddle
Am I the big muscle twitch when your b**h struggles
This is it juggle this script 'til I spit rubble
Quick swiftness, sh** am I a bit pissed
Sick as the switchblade gripped by the thick stubble
Am I normal or am I sane
Shall I snorkel my way through the thoughts of my shallow brain
And not pause 'til I'm back again
Am I gorpin' in pain at my war face or am i vain
Am I the skin of the drum that you're tappin' on
Clap along let your head snap to a happy song
Am I a back stage pa** or a
Smile as wide as your fat mates arse
My rap breaks gla** and takes half your mates bars
Straight past ancient days and leaves great scars
Leaves great f**ing scars, yeah
Am I the tidbits, the what is this the hot business
Who's got spirit and only stops to rock lyrics
A novelist with a lot of sh** in his oesophagus
The doctor said stop but I'm lost so I've got to spit
What is this? And thats an obvious blag
Am I captain piss man's colostomy bag
Or a spot in your mag or a slag getting robbed
Oh God this is mad I'm just dodging the plan
To escape the fates and be free when I suffocate
Nothings changed drunk, puffin' eighths in a f**ing state
In a f**ing state
f** off
[Verse 2: Edward Scissortongue]
Am I the missing link
Hobbit feet, tree swinging monkey grin
Tectonic hint of a stoned faced chisel chin
Am I the will to win
Like a million men who missioned in the depths of winter
Just to stop nazi militia men pillaging their villages
Man am I the village idiot who dribbles mic deliverance spinning the rhythmical synonyms
[?] limbs a n***a for instance
Imagination figments illuminate the darkness in the distance
Am I paddling like pimps in down dead man's curve
Or am I drinking pints of piss just like a bed pan perv
Until my head can swerve, is this the head case hurts
Smuggling verbs over across vidicodes you choose to observe
Am I that cla** A dude spitting cla** A tunes at dark venues
Find me in blacked out backrooms
With the man on the moon strapping head shoots
While simultaneously cooking up some scag in a spoon
Am I that cynic with many lyrics
The devil with existential
Metaphysics question in the age of scripts to paint the minds of millions
Or am I another one of many earth bound spirits
Tries to fight the theories only to find I'm made in his image
Am I just a set of useless shapes and shady remarks
A person can prove the pennies [?] shadiest parch
Wrist slit as I lay in the bath
I see a red sea embark
Even Moses couldn't part
With his magical staff, satanical scars, diagonal charms
Sit on the man until I can reach with my mechanical maniacal
Spitting cannibal bars
Filled with sicker imagery than a VHS of Animal Farm
Am I that man who walks in circles never learning a thing
Almost regressing every second through a blaze before I felt I figure my sins
A single organism twitching
Before the axis of the Earth had ever started to spin
Am I that vibrating hammer on the strings with over rapid ivory hits
Echoing inside grand piano lids
Or am I the software packages that cut and paste the symphonies for kings into a bangin' loop of geese
Am I the sun dance kid, am I the matrix glitch
Am I the dusty vinyl scratch and skips these amazing scripts see its
Weird psychosis of a garbage bail kid
I never stabbed him in the ribs it was the demons in my mind that did
Am I the last laughing lager 'lowed down in car scales in large amounts before last orders fast pa**ing out
Fastest ba*tard about to blast an ounce
Who's barred from half the bars in town
Am I Ed Scissortongue [?]
What his alter ego's got me going psycho over songs
Am I that wack jam host, likes to backhand foes
It's best advised that you avoid him like a pac-man ghost