Dirty Dike - Self Portrait | Текст песни

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/nowayy
This is my self portrait
Wrapped up warm in my north-face
Gliding through storms and doorways
And rhyme 'til my jaw breaks
Sure mate a vision of me
With the television smashed and the sizzling beef
And I'm steady living, trapped in the rhythm and beat
And my head is spinning, smacked out hitting the weed
And I guess it isn't bad if it helps me adjust
But I'll tell you it's mad when it dwells in my trust
And affect it, and that's a lesson mate use it
Seems that I have to be depressed to make music
Unless my face cubic, I'll break out the surface
Never played stupid, my guessing games worthless
As I step on the wetter rain dirt
Its a lot more certain I never played her kid
One step ahead of my definite loss
Trying to fight my battles but the weapon is blocked
Am I ever going to be the main game or a weather turner
Never going to be my own brain or a clever learner
I'll pedal further to make heads turn
I'm hooked like a maggot or a baked dead worm
So is this hatred, happiness all maybe fake
Confused by my life but I play the game
And stay the same insane in my crazy brain
And paint my name on walls to claim the fame --
It's plainly lame

I can't find the reflection, the puddle's been clouded
Blind from deception, another kid frowning
Why must I step with the rubble and the sand dunes
My mind seems fucked from the trouble and the bad news
My dad used to say to keep sane; keep up James and don't live the clean way
But he's blatantly strange, faking his ways
From a crazy age I saw him pacing away
Chasing the pathways, lost with the lights out
Raving with class mates, cost of a life now
The lessons learnt from the freshly burned victim
I once beat a kid to the ground then I kicked him
Switch the sickness to friends and favours
Strong as a shield as I bend your sabres
Free from the jail, the dark and dark fader
Tarnish my past, live fast and laugh later
This is dark, my answers scarce paper
Gassed in the last chamber, enhance my hearts neighbour
But thats my soul or my brain, or the golden maze of my swollen veins
Or my body parts drenched in the rain as the lorries pass
Motorways stain fake like a bobbies mask
Got to pass this rap in a sore state
I'd love to be free but I'm trapped in my portrait

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