Illusionary Lines Lyrics
| Song | Illusionary Lines |
| Artist | Hilltop Hoods |
| Album | The Calling |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Verse One – Pressure | |
| I once had time on my hands, but now handling time, | |
| Is coping with this life cycle and the mandatory grind, | |
| My sanity's fine, just falling short of stamina I'm, | |
| Searching for some food for thought to feed this famine of mind, | |
| And when I'm stagnant I rhyme, it helps the night turn to day, | |
| I churn my way through this nine to five and urban decay, | |
| Believe me it's bleak, and though the city's breaths in its sleep, | |
| It's just a paddock, ain't no where a shepherds leading these sheep, | |
| Now most prefer it covered up lie than the truth naked, | |
| The truth is ugly like cellulite; please don't publicly parade it, | |
| I hate it but to escape it would be luck on fluke, | |
| I feel like I'm a dope beat but I'm stuck on loop, | |
| But that's my life cycle; freedom means everything to me, | |
| And face value's got us believing everything we see, | |
| So if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we're blind, | |
| So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. | |
| Verse Two – Pressure | |
| I once had respect for this game, but now this game of respect, | |
| Is sold to the highest bidder with some fame and a cheque, | |
| Now any layman can get respect without breaking his neck, | |
| Paying dues, time these crews started paying some debt, | |
| It ain't lights and cameras, personalities on set, | |
| Distorting realities in their context, | |
| With no originality concepts, | |
| Who gives a fuck about a salary; this ain't a popularity contest, | |
| Cos hip hop ain't faking for ends, | |
| Hip-hop ain't fading with trends, | |
| It ain't rich kids playing with pens, | |
| It ain't the clothes on your back, or the label on them, | |
| It's where you're at, so I say it again, | |
| It's just my life cycle; music means everything to me, | |
| It's just a fashion show, nah; don't believe everything you see, | |
| Cos if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we're blind, | |
| So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. | |
| Verse Three – Pressure | |
| That's just my life cycle, nothing matters but setting me free, | |
| Because my freedom and hip hop be meaning everything to me, | |
| Now face values and fashions empower everything we be, | |
| Believing everything we hear, and everything we see, | |
| So if our eyes tell us lies, then we usually find, | |
| Our visions cluttered by this scutter so the truth is we're blind, | |
| It's just poison food for thought for these dillusionary minds, | |
| So stop walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. |
| Verse One Pressure | |
| I once had time on my hands, but now handling time, | |
| Is coping with this life cycle and the mandatory grind, | |
| My sanity' s fine, just falling short of stamina I' m, | |
| Searching for some food for thought to feed this famine of mind, | |
| And when I' m stagnant I rhyme, it helps the night turn to day, | |
| I churn my way through this nine to five and urban decay, | |
| Believe me it' s bleak, and though the city' s breaths in its sleep, | |
| It' s just a paddock, ain' t no where a shepherds leading these sheep, | |
| Now most prefer it covered up lie than the truth naked, | |
| The truth is ugly like cellulite please don' t publicly parade it, | |
| I hate it but to escape it would be luck on fluke, | |
| I feel like I' m a dope beat but I' m stuck on loop, | |
| But that' s my life cycle freedom means everything to me, | |
| And face value' s got us believing everything we see, | |
| So if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we' re blind, | |
| So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. | |
| Verse Two Pressure | |
| I once had respect for this game, but now this game of respect, | |
| Is sold to the highest bidder with some fame and a cheque, | |
| Now any layman can get respect without breaking his neck, | |
| Paying dues, time these crews started paying some debt, | |
| It ain' t lights and cameras, personalities on set, | |
| Distorting realities in their context, | |
| With no originality concepts, | |
| Who gives a fuck about a salary this ain' t a popularity contest, | |
| Cos hip hop ain' t faking for ends, | |
| Hiphop ain' t fading with trends, | |
| It ain' t rich kids playing with pens, | |
| It ain' t the clothes on your back, or the label on them, | |
| It' s where you' re at, so I say it again, | |
| It' s just my life cycle music means everything to me, | |
| It' s just a fashion show, nah don' t believe everything you see, | |
| Cos if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we' re blind, | |
| So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. | |
| Verse Three Pressure | |
| That' s just my life cycle, nothing matters but setting me free, | |
| Because my freedom and hip hop be meaning everything to me, | |
| Now face values and fashions empower everything we be, | |
| Believing everything we hear, and everything we see, | |
| So if our eyes tell us lies, then we usually find, | |
| Our visions cluttered by this scutter so the truth is we' re blind, | |
| It' s just poison food for thought for these dillusionary minds, | |
| So stop walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. |
| Verse One Pressure | |
| I once had time on my hands, but now handling time, | |
| Is coping with this life cycle and the mandatory grind, | |
| My sanity' s fine, just falling short of stamina I' m, | |
| Searching for some food for thought to feed this famine of mind, | |
| And when I' m stagnant I rhyme, it helps the night turn to day, | |
| I churn my way through this nine to five and urban decay, | |
| Believe me it' s bleak, and though the city' s breaths in its sleep, | |
| It' s just a paddock, ain' t no where a shepherds leading these sheep, | |
| Now most prefer it covered up lie than the truth naked, | |
| The truth is ugly like cellulite please don' t publicly parade it, | |
| I hate it but to escape it would be luck on fluke, | |
| I feel like I' m a dope beat but I' m stuck on loop, | |
| But that' s my life cycle freedom means everything to me, | |
| And face value' s got us believing everything we see, | |
| So if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we' re blind, | |
| So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. | |
| Verse Two Pressure | |
| I once had respect for this game, but now this game of respect, | |
| Is sold to the highest bidder with some fame and a cheque, | |
| Now any layman can get respect without breaking his neck, | |
| Paying dues, time these crews started paying some debt, | |
| It ain' t lights and cameras, personalities on set, | |
| Distorting realities in their context, | |
| With no originality concepts, | |
| Who gives a fuck about a salary this ain' t a popularity contest, | |
| Cos hip hop ain' t faking for ends, | |
| Hiphop ain' t fading with trends, | |
| It ain' t rich kids playing with pens, | |
| It ain' t the clothes on your back, or the label on them, | |
| It' s where you' re at, so I say it again, | |
| It' s just my life cycle music means everything to me, | |
| It' s just a fashion show, nah don' t believe everything you see, | |
| Cos if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we' re blind, | |
| So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. | |
| Verse Three Pressure | |
| That' s just my life cycle, nothing matters but setting me free, | |
| Because my freedom and hip hop be meaning everything to me, | |
| Now face values and fashions empower everything we be, | |
| Believing everything we hear, and everything we see, | |
| So if our eyes tell us lies, then we usually find, | |
| Our visions cluttered by this scutter so the truth is we' re blind, | |
| It' s just poison food for thought for these dillusionary minds, | |
| So stop walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. |
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