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Á¦¸ñ: The Calling
°¡¼ö: Hilltop Hoods

Verse One ? Pressure
For many years I was seeking asylum, in the bleakest environments,
Rhyme possessed me, while many started speaking retirement,
So as I rose they all fell in the fashion of yelling and trashing,
For what it¡¯s worth there was no quelling the passion,
Their love was dead, I was writing papes but getting fuck all said,
So I polished my shit until my knuckles bled,
Treading thin ice and all I caught were chills,
Sacrifices were appetisers, mics instead of meals,
This hand was mine, so I played it until I made it expand my mind,
And burned my name into the sands of time,
Then rhyme gave me strength to less avail,
Got used to these backstabbers, so now I sleep on a bed of nails,
I never fail, but turning tides are moving too slow,
I swam the depths of every ocean just to prove I could flow,
So from the cradle to the grave, turntable to Holy Father,
I swear I didn¡¯t slit my wrists I got the hip-hop stigmata.

Chorus
You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
We bless the microphone nightly,
Open up the lyric from inside me,
It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say,
You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
We bless the microphone nightly,
Open up the lyric from inside me,
It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say¡¦

Verse Two ? Suffa
This be calling, we could never be fake,
Thanks to hip-hop I got a bed in every state,
And without it I¡¯d roam the city with no purpose,
Without the underground I¡¯m a clown without circus,
I flip verses, you feeling me, abilities,
My currency with which I buy credibility,
Facilities were built, just to be torn down,
Till the wheels fall off, and my pencils all worn down,
Till death comes to collect his debt, I¡¯ll wreck the set,
When heads check in retrospect, I¡¯ll get respect
Cos I did what I was called to do,
It¡¯s hip hop, I did it all for you
We true to this, got clout on turntables getting played,
We doing this without a label not getting payed
So from the cradle to the grave, microphone to retirement home
I¡¯ll be on stage; I¡¯ll never leave the rhyme alone.

Chorus
You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
We bless the microphone nightly,
Open up the lyric from inside me,
It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say,
You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
We bless the microphone nightly,
Open up the lyric from inside me,
It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say¡¦
Verse Three ? Suffa & Pressure
Either we¡¯re all out, or we¡¯re all in,
And if we fall out, then we¡¯re all falling,
It¡¯s the calling; it¡¯s what I hear in my sleep,
It¡¯s that shiver up my spine when I¡¯m feeling the beat,
It¡¯s that fear of defeat, the need to better myself,
It¡¯s the culture; it¡¯s not about spreading the wealth,
It¡¯s forgetting the time when you¡¯re perfecting a rhyme,
It¡¯s every drop of sweat that I shed getting mine.

Chorus
You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
We bless the microphone nightly,
Open up the lyric from inside me,
It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say,
You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
We bless the microphone nightly,
Open up the lyric from inside me,
It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say¡¦

-----------------
The Calling
Hilltop Hoods

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