[Verse 1: Mr Key]
My prerogative is negative to positive
Never give it less, I give it everything I got to give
But if I'm honest I ain't got a lot to offer kids
Unless you want to sit and watch a bitter tosser chop his wrists
To rotten bits, contradictions are my bu*tered bread
'times it's better if you bu*ton-up and nothing's said
None the less I'm done with biting on my blessed tongue
Time to come when less is none
Tighten-up and get it done
I'm a dumb pathetic c*nt
A rotter and a scoundrel
But not the sort of hephalump to swallow every mouthful
(Oooh!) And I ain't plottin' on your downfall
I'm busy getting blissy with my bollocks and a scalpel
So come and take a blood-stained seat inside my mind
Pour yourself a pint full of pissy white wine
Play, pause, stop the tape and rewind
I guarantee that everything will be just fine
Come and take a blood-stained seat inside my mind
Help yourself to anything that 'Chesca left behind
A mess of minor stresses in a treasure chest of lies
Lies decrepit [?] pile of half-digested second tries
All reflected in my eyes disconnected from inside
And your ten-a-penny guess's good as any for the whine
I exited the stage, left and stepped into my spine and left a trail of burnt connections spelling everything is fine
Is there any dirty diamond shinier than roughage with the glint
It takes a special kind of b**h to rummage for that sh**
Morbid sense of humor with a stomach full of grit seeks
Lover to discover why the f** do we exist
And I'll admit that it's a plus if you can s** a f**ing dick!
Come slum it in the pits of my wonderful abyss
I spend summer getting pissed-up and messy with my mates
Spend winter penning lyrics in the belly of the snake
And away
And a spring full of wonderful music
I don't give a f** if you judge why I do this
Love's why I do this
Love's why I do this
Dig through the pitch-black sludge with my music
[Hook: Mr Key]
Love's why I do this
Love's why I, Love's why I do this
Love for the CP team that I move with
Love for the crews puttin' truth in the blueprint
Digging through the pitch-black sludge with the music
[Verse 2: Dirty Dike]
There's no trust left in my head, (Zilch)
I've come to suffering inside
Head correctional mess
It's all a pattern, and I reckon if correctional-less
My inner introspective of everything could definitely rest
I step and eject
The questions are irrelevant yes
But I ain't here to be your mechanism
Get some respect
I check a mega-rhythm carved within the meaning of my purpose here
Your words are clear
Every time you speak it's like a blur from here
Your thinking deep or merely learning on the surface
Cause me, I'll need a reason in peace, belief and purpose here
Certain fear, sits within a box I keep it locked
You see me nod to beats