Am I

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 there's nothing said

Am I missin' out on love in my public bed?

Nothing best trust but I'm stuck puffin' skunk instead

Am I tough as lead? Cuss what my mother said

Trapped till I spread rubbish dust now we're huggin' less

Am I causing your husband some sudden stress

Or am I just another bumpkin that's 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 dick muscle twitch when your bitch struggles

This is it juggle this script till 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 till 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 that's 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'll just dodge it and 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

Am I the missing link?

Hobbit feet, tree swinging monkey grin

Tectonic hints of a stone-faced chiseled chin

Am I the will to win?

Like a million men who missioned in the depths of winter

To stop Nazi militia men pillaging their villages

Man am I the village idiot?

Who dribbles mic-deliverance spinning the riddled synonyms?

Through righteous limbs and ligaments, 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 swerves, 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

Of 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 questions in the age of scripts to paint the minds of millions?

Or am I another one of many earth bound spirits?

Tried to fight the theorists only to find I'm made in his image

Am I just a set of useless shapes and shady remarks?

A person can bode the penny's chaupar shining, what?

The shadiest parts

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

See I'm the man till I'm outreaching my mechanical maniacal scars

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 the 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 gigs?

Am I the Sun-dance kid?

Am I the matrix glitch?

Am I the dusty vinyl scratches and skips these amazing scripts?

See its weed-psychosis of a garbage pail kid

I never stabbed him in the ribs it was the demons in my mind that did

Am I the last laughing lager lout?

Downing 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?

It's best advised that you avoid him like a pac-man ghost