Verse One ? Pressure
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For many years I was seeking asylum, in the bleakest environments,
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Rhyme possessed me, while many started speaking retirement,
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So as I rose they all fell in the fashion of yelling and trashing,
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For what it¡¯s worth there was no quelling the passion,
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Their love was dead, I was writing papes but getting fuck all said,
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So I polished my shit until my knuckles bled,
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Treading thin ice and all I caught were chills,
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Sacrifices were appetisers, mics instead of meals,
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This hand was mine, so I played it until I made it expand my mind,
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And burned my name into the sands of time,
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Then rhyme gave me strength to less avail,
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Got used to these backstabbers, so now I sleep on a bed of nails,
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I never fail, but turning tides are moving too slow,
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I swam the depths of every ocean just to prove I could flow,
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So from the cradle to the grave, turntable to Holy Father,
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I swear I didn¡¯t slit my wrists I got the hip-hop stigmata.
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Chorus
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You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
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We bless the microphone nightly,
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Open up the lyric from inside me,
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It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say,
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You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
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We bless the microphone nightly,
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Open up the lyric from inside me,
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It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say¡¦
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Verse Two ? Suffa
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This be calling, we could never be fake,
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Thanks to hip-hop I got a bed in every state,
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And without it I¡¯d roam the city with no purpose,
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Without the underground I¡¯m a clown without circus,
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I flip verses, you feeling me, abilities,
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My currency with which I buy credibility,
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Facilities were built, just to be torn down,
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Till the wheels fall off, and my pencils all worn down,
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Till death comes to collect his debt, I¡¯ll wreck the set,
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When heads check in retrospect, I¡¯ll get respect
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Cos I did what I was called to do,
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It¡¯s hip hop, I did it all for you
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We true to this, got clout on turntables getting played,
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We doing this without a label not getting payed
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So from the cradle to the grave, microphone to retirement home
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I¡¯ll be on stage; I¡¯ll never leave the rhyme alone.
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Chorus
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You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
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We bless the microphone nightly,
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Open up the lyric from inside me,
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It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say,
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You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
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We bless the microphone nightly,
|
Open up the lyric from inside me,
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It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say¡¦
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Verse Three ? Suffa & Pressure
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Either we¡¯re all out, or we¡¯re all in,
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And if we fall out, then we¡¯re all falling,
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It¡¯s the calling; it¡¯s what I hear in my sleep,
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It¡¯s that shiver up my spine when I¡¯m feeling the beat,
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It¡¯s that fear of defeat, the need to better myself,
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It¡¯s the culture; it¡¯s not about spreading the wealth,
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It¡¯s forgetting the time when you¡¯re perfecting a rhyme,
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It¡¯s every drop of sweat that I shed getting mine.
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Chorus
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You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
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We bless the microphone nightly,
|
Open up the lyric from inside me,
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It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say,
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You got to pray to hip-hop almighty,
|
We bless the microphone nightly,
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Open up the lyric from inside me,
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It¡¯s our calling that¡¯s why we say¡¦
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The Calling
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Hilltop Hoods |