Illy - 6 Shooter (ft. Purpose, J Stark, Bitter Relief, Raven, Prime) lyrics

Intro: Yo, this joint right here is dedicated to all the motherf**ers who fell off (yeah) And the motherf**ers who's about to fall off Verse 1: Purpose It's uh, Mr. If The If The City Had A Turn the ba** up till the place, jump in the window shatter Miss me with the banter, My man I been a factor The benefactor with ink - your man's the missing chapter Phizzle this a banger, Illy let's get it cracking Twist the fabric of time with a rhyme my style is systematic I scribble something so ill you wish that you didn't capture Twist a fat one and sprinkle this here with a little magic When you and your friends rhyme it's bedtime, I'm snoring Whether or not I headline... Yes I'm supporting Flavour drip through the speaker when I'm recording If charisma's a disease I could be dead by the morning My man, we are the entire f** out here Lights up, Ryan's up, fire up the sound gear Been accused of the recklessness but I don't dispute the evidence I just reload the click (gun co*k) And shoot the messenger (gun shot) Verse 2: J Stark Hey it's that bloke from the water's edge One stroke gets your daughter wet You're getting served like you haven't ordered yet I score a rep by putting verses in the morgue Til my services are more sought after than a who*e's I'm getting plenty buddy, How you getting yours? I'm getting paid the pen and page, add a little more We smack a stage til it needs to be restored And I do this sh** because I love it not because I'm bored Moved away from Beauy but it's pumping through my heart Now I represent the Frankston line and going f**ing hard Aiming for the stars been rolling from the start Now I'm sharing tracks with motherf**ers holding golden plaques Braithwaite Steeze, Wild animal mentality And haters getting mad at rappers doubling their salary They're talking sh** I ain't hearing what they telling me The colour that they seeing's greener than a stick of celery Verse 3: Bitter Belief Yeah, Introductions aside You asking - Who am I? I'm the owner of a gallery, your tour guide And you can leave with stained shirts Cos tryna understand how my brain works is suicide I got a beautiful mind covered in sewer slime And if you look a little closer there's a clue inside To get past the putrid grime like few have tried Then you could possibly ruin your eyes Am I crazy? You decide All I know is my rhymes are so pimped that I write them in a suit and tie I'm superman flying through the sky, but you guys wouldn't recognise a hero in a new disguise Life's like shooting the dice or gambling But you just rambling, standing with your hand on the mic I ain't battling an amateur, get your calibre right I'll leave you pussies afraid like you're Hannibal's wife Verse 4: Raven Check the floodgates (what) That door needs closing shut They're like a f**face in p**n scenes, I know they s** Put ‘em on parole so they can walk free to go get f**ed Get your own style cause yous all seems to be clones of us With no character character, Boring stoner c*nts It's so embarra**ing, it's like the Portuguese showing up the Spanish with Brazil The whole East is owned by us I have 'em crashing at will like the torpedoes blowing up (boom) Hit the battleship and all fleets of that floated sunk Quicker than a cattle whip on raw meat drove to cuts The prodigal son since 14 when token bud Still tropical son with tall trees and coconuts My art sells for peanuts like poor street folk that bust The Cartel Team bust with more heat than smoking guns *bam* One of the finest, If you fought me you only just survived if you're Irish Four-leaf clover luck Verse 5: Prime Uh, If you were gifted then it must have been a lump of coal But still you're full of yourself like one of them Russian dolls If you're shooting for the top you should adjust the goals If I walked a mile in your shoes it would crush my soul Saw you live, who would pay though to book you? If you tried to get some girls there then they overlooked you Men, men, men like that lame show with Kutcher A total sausage fest like a trade show for butchers Uh, this is Adelaide talking I'm an animal coursing through my preys, natural habitat stalking, just hungry If there's beef then I'm jabbing my fork in At the mere f**ing mention of a battle they walking And if not Then they got more than your standard d**hwish Weird, most of them are sweeter than a candy necklace Always got something left to write like I was ambidextrous And if my music's declined... how come my fans accept it? Verse 6: Illy Yo Chopping up with blunt papes, Rocking with a verse Hopping off the runway, dropping in a vert Either way I'm rolling, optimal at worst You ain't seeing me unless you got binoculars at work biatc* But don't get mad about it, be a man about it - Chin up It's brand-spanking steeze Hand back the hand-me-downers Swap those rhymes and swallow pride They still paying dues off of borrowed time And cue my flows monsoon sh** You pals dog food, barking up the wrong eucalypt 6 shooters, grip mics We see red and blast like a hoover crip Higher than thread counts on your goose-down dooners b**h Its big kahuna sh** And I ain't heard of your small fries in big towns Man up or sit down Mercenary spits Hired guns on the disc, Bound to k** by the contract And keep putting hits out *gunshot*