Self Portrait

Dirty Dike

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    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 up 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 delves in my trust
    And affects it, so 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 game's worthless
    As I step on the wetter rain dirt
    It's a lot more certain I never played her kids
    One step ahead of my definite loss
    Trying to fight my battle, but the weapon is blocked
    Am I ever going to be the main game or a weather turner
    Never gonna 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 or 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 just to claim the fame
    It's plainly lame

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    I can't find my 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 watched him pacing away
    Chasing the pathways, lost with the lights out
    Raving with class mates, cost of a life now
    The lessons learnt by the fresher burn victims
    I once beat a kid to the ground then I kicked him
    Switch the sickness to friends and favours
    Strong as a shield when I bend your sabers
    Free from the jail, the dark and Darth Vader
    Tarnish my past, live fast and laugh later
    This is dark, my answer scars paper
    Grasp in the last chamber, enhance my heart's neighbour
    And that's 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 stains stay fake like a bobbie's mask
    Got to pass out this rap in a sore state
    Love to be free, but I'm trapped in my portrait

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    Composición: Dirty Dike

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