Followers - Dirty Dike

So I woke up in this mess, what do I know?

Stressed with the questions, the answer that I know

And I know that life is a tiny tight rope

And my line’s broke at a height and I’ll die slow

Dike’s no nice bloke, nah he’s a right cock

Blind when I speak like I rhyme with the lights off

Find me a sweet bit of silence, my god

So I can dive right in the light until the fight stops

Fuck the people that judge my actions

Fuck all these sequels and drug distractions

Touching the freefaller, fool all these people

It’s evil how we all get sucked to imagine like plankton

Try to duck and dive from the big fish

Drugs is business and you better fucking swim, bitch

Or wiggle fins, quick you’ll be a lost soul

Cause you want your shit, but your dealer says it got sold

Now you’re bubbling, boiling, struggling

Annoyed 'cause you’re nothing but a druggy little boy again

I’ve seen enough of it destroying men

And turned a real good mate into a cunt from a loyal friend

We’ve fought pissheads in pubs, kids let in clubs, mislead thugs all up to

sniff fresh drugs

Yes, bruv, let’s have a fake conversation

I’m the fucking man, I’m the bollocks, I’m the great one

Notes curling, and now you know your throat’s burning

Your nose bursts open, alone this bloke’s vermin

There’s no learning, brains charred and raped to bits

Pass the plate to sniff, and watch your faces twitch

Man, you worked so hard to pay for this

And it’s fucking crazy shit and I’m ashamed of it

Stages flip, the paranoia settles in

It’s more unpredictable than Barry boys on ketamine

So let the test begin, that’s the golden quote

Er, someone in this room has fucking stole my note

People gulping throats now are acting shifty

You rule the thoughts wow, you’re trapped in this scene you followers

Like dogs catching frisbees

Or spastic rappers trying to rap to sick beats

It’s piss weak and man I hate to say this

But when I take shit, my mates' faces are nameless

And it’s the same when you’re talking to me

'Cause you gawp at your feet and walk awkwardly

And your heads about as chopped as your quarter be

I know guys still snortin' at forty-three

Man, torture me

This is more than I know about

Please take my habit to the door man and show it out

Or go insane, that’s no way to know your mates

No way to shadow hate, cocaine’s a shallow grave

Man with a bag of base, it’s borderline insanity

I need to stop now before the force kind of shatters me

My thoughts fly dramatically in raw times of anarchy

Your mind’s absorbing like four tabs of Acid be