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 pa**ion, Their love was dead, I was writing papes but getting f** all said, So I polished my sh** 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 d**h 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.