Illy - 6 Shooter lyrics

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 [Purpose:] How to turn the ba** up to the place Jump in the window shatter [?] Its new witty banter My man a benefactor [?] Phizzle hits are bangin Illy lets get it crackin’ Twist the fabric of time with a rhyme my style is systematic I scribble something so ill you wish that you didn’t capture [?] Sprinkle the sh** with a little magic When you and your friends rhyme its bedtime, 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 weird the entire f** out here Lights up, time’s up, fire up the sound gear But I refuse the recklessness but I don’t dispute the evidence I just reload the click And shoot the messenger [J. Stark:] I shoot straight from the water’s edge One stroke get your thought all wet You getting served like you haven’t ordered yet I score the ref [?] of putting verses in the morgue Until my services are more sought after than a who*e’s I’m getting honey buddy hey getting yours I’m getting paid to pen and page and add a little more We smack a stage until it needs to be restored And I do this sh** because I love it not because I’m bored Moved away from Boe? 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 motherf**ers holding golden [?] 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 seem greener than a stick of celery [Bitter Belief:] Yeah Introductions aside You asking Who am I? I’m the owner of a gallery, a tour guide And you could leave with stained shirts Because trying to 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 [?] 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 [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 yours seems to be clones of us Window 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 [?] crashed at will Like torpedoes blowing up Hit the battleship (boom) And all fleets that floated sunk Quicker than a cattle whip on raw meat drove to cuts The prodigal son since 14 token bus Still tropical son with tall trees and coconuts My art sells for peanuts Like poor street folk that bust Can't tell [?] With more heat than smoking guns (bam) One of the finest If you fought me you only just survived it You’re Irish Four-leaf clover luck [Prime:] 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? [Illy:] Yo Jumping up with blunt babes Rock it with a verse Hopping off the runway Dropping in a bird Either way I’m rolling Optimal at worst You ain’t seeing me unless you got binoculars at work (beeatch) But don’t get mad about it Be a man about it Chin up Its brand-spanking Hand bag the hand-me-downers Swap those rhymes and swallow pride They still paying dues off of borrowed time And cue my flows monsoon You pa** dog food Barking up the wrong eucalypt Six shooters grip mics We see red and blast like a hoover crib Higher than thread counts on your goose-down dooners b**h Its big kahuna sh** And I ain’t heard of your small fries and big towns Man up or sit down Mercenary’s b**h Hired guns on the disc Bound to k** by the contract And keep putting hits out