Edward Scissortongue - Am I lyrics

[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