lirik lagu got your 6ix – the 6ixers (the bad seed & lr blitzkrieg)
the 6ixers (the bad seed & lr blitzkrieg) ft. ph (aka pumpkinhead) * “got your 6ix”
[emcee(s): ph (aka pumpkinhead), lr blitzkrieg, and the bad seed]
[producer(s): nottz]
[intro: sample from interview]
“…just that i worked hard and that i was a humble individual and, you know, i wasn’t trying to sell my soul to get a piece of the pie and that i stayed a ground level by choice ‘cause i could have easily signed a record deal and been commercial and did all this other bullsh*t rap that you’re hearing on the radio nowadays, you know? it’s easily, that sh*t is simple sh*t, like, i just want people to know that i’m a sincere individual and that i remained humble. that’s it, really” * ph (aka pumpkinhead)
[verse 1: ph (aka pumpkinhead)]
contrary to popular belief
i’vе been around the world, putting fire on them bеats. when the album drop
a few rappers gon’ retire in that week. i perspire
in sheets with chicks that favor somaya reece
n*gga, my track record’s got smash records
sip rum and turn stuntman, i act reckless
so why question my rank and status? i’m mayweather
with the moves, my right hook is like tank abbott
in the whip, murdered out, listening to black sabbath
paranoid, purp’ got me seeing flashing lights and badges
oh! version 6.0
my range rove’, i’m in a lane you can’t be in, ho!
i rock nations, i’m not waiting
i’m a med student, i don’t got patients/patience
i keep it 100 like a pop station
i’m the underground king, i do my thing—stop playing!
[hook: the bad seed and (lr blitzkrieg)]
am i my brother’s keeper? (yes, i am). go for broke, (get you fixed)
if he fall, i pick him up—it’s worth the risk. (despite the options)
yeah, i got him. (how far out?) twenty cliques. (lock and load)
(i got your back). roger that. i got your 6ix
[verse 2: lr blitzkrieg]
yo, yo
battleship blue, 7 series with the black rims
red*brick shoes peek through when i mash him, you
“skrrt!” jump back on the curb. i’m not to be disturbed
it’s written all over your face—don’t gotta say a word
you ain’t hard, n*gga, your bars tender. let bartenders
see you at the bar and bar you from the hard liquor
you ain’t hardly sick. nah, n*gga. my squad’s sicker
we sharp as barb wire, you barb on nicki minaj twitter
you ain’t in the same lane, can’t even walk down the same street
you keep paying producers to keep making that same beat
syllables’ll k!ll a few, murder you at your fame’s peak
you’re taking it in vain? i’ll be the reason that your veins leak
keep ‘em mumbling, i’ll be the reason that you can’t speak
don’t like you dudes—it ain’t that deep. i digress
they say it’s borderline hating, not good for my stress
but stay with visualizations of ways for you to die best
tied neck, fried flesh dissected in pyrex, baked in
pies and digested by whichever them lying next
i guess no difference just as long it’s felt weight
stab ‘em with icicles so the evidence melts. hold on
i’m on to something. no murder weapon—what’s more amazing:
the cold’ll throw off the whole time*of*death investigation
f*ck am i saying? let me stop playing games. you dudes dead
soon as you said our name—it’s the 6ixers!
[hook: the bad seed and (lr blitzkrieg)]
am i my brother’s keeper? (yes, i am). go for broke, (get you fixed)
if he fall, i pick him up—it’s worth the risk. (despite the options)
yeah, i got him. (how far out?) twenty cliques. (lock and load)
(i got your back). roger that. i got your 6ix
[verse 3: the bad seed]
started from the bottom, the gutter—that’s where i’m from, b*tch
a lot of n*ggas looking the part—out of ‘em, none rich
been on my job with the sh*t since i was 1*6
the borough raised me, you crazy coming with one bl!ck
n*gga, your lady and baby say you a bum b*tch
spray your mercedes, i’m shady and i’m amongst ‘victs
once this word get out, you on that young sh*t
y’all getting chopped up and sold like nottz’ drum kits
y’all not this. i told you i’m dumb quick
swing once, hit your mouthpiece, now you got numb lips
angelina jolie swollen when i’m holding
sh*lls thicker than jill scott, mac chrome and golden. your rap
holmes, is old, and, can’t front, i’m dozing
i don’t believe a bar y’all be saying, it make no sense
‘bout ready to throw y’all n*ggas in the ocean
i’d rather smoke it, so f*ck it. i’ll pass on the notion
i’ll blast when approaching. with a mask, i be focused
my handsome features stand out, i don’t want ‘em to notice
you say you hard, but i don’t know if you know this
ain’t n0body coming to see you, otis
[outro: the bad seed]
haha! something light. n*gga!
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