Am I

[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 Fucking 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 fucking fresh, rhyming like drunken sex Am I trapped in the spiral of drugs and death 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 shit or a sick puddle Am I the big muscle twitch when your bitch struggles This is it juggle this script 'til I spit rubble Quick swiftness, shit 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 pass or a Smile as wide as your fat mates arse My rap breaks glass and takes half your mates bars Straight past ancient days and leaves great scars Leaves great fucking 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 shit 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 fucking state In a fucking state Fuck 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 nigger for instance Imagination figments illuminate the darnedest 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 class A dude spitting class 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 the [?] 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 passing out Fastest bastard 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 The best advice you avoid him like a pac-man ghost