Self Portrait (исполнитель: Dirty Dike)
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 [bad word] 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 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 [bad word] and the sand dunes My mind seems [bad word] 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