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Singles


Artist: Contact Play
Total songs: 3
Year:

Like This Lyrics - Singles - Contact Play

[Jam Baxter] 

hey slobs its the late cotch waste toppin, 

stray dogs stays lost bray stay gobbin, 

case not brains rottin, 

and we aint got paid cause we hate shottin, 

traipse on veins cloggin, 

its your bate flop jacob, 

the muddy mime bunnin thai, 

rubbin my gums with the colour white, 

cutting lines up inside clubs is the grubby life, 

shove a mike under my mug watch me come alive, 

i'm the sluggish type scuttle by piss poor, 

spliff lit like a triple number 9 switch board, 

and you wonder why i'm looking like shit for, 

dribbling at chicks tryna pull 'em like rip chord, 

looking eyes flickering a hot box visibly, 

i'm pickling my bonce till its compost physically, 

but being pissed non stop cripples me, 

fuck hip hop man its hop hop literally, 

on a one legged race to get legless, 

a skunk serenade for one i kept breakfast, 

shucks any takers bruv lets get feckless, 

come and get blazed and drunk and head westwards, 

with reckless abandon, 

wretching at random, 

dreadfully dressed i perfected that anthem, 

and if you live how i live stick your mits in the air and then puke till you can't like this, 

like this, like this, like this, 

(like what?) like this, like this, like this, 

like this, like this, like this, 

(like what?) like this, like this, like this 

 

[Dirty Dike] 

News just in, 

dikes fucked on a drug binge, 

sniffin up dust cut with scum from the dustbin, 

and fuck things its the same old same, 

james raping his brain in nasal ways, 

and basic days consist of a piss pot of cocaine, 

and when my nostrils block i'll be rippin off your nose mate, 

so bait i could walk into asda, 

and snort up an ounce with your daughter and baxter, 

bought nuff drugs can't afford no pasta, 

snort up dust till my sore nose fractures, 

and round here we don't pour no champers, 

we're wearing a wardrobe with your clothes wankers, 

and don't thank us i'm far from a nice lout, 

5 ounce lines couldn't buy me a night out, 

sniff like a, sniff like a hoover to floor, 

put your hands up and trip as i puke on the floor like this, 

like this, like this, like this, 

its like this, like this, like this, 

(its like what?) its like this, like this, like this, 

(like what?) its like this, like this, like this (like how?) 

Are you remember?



A-11

Artist: Norma Jean