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Текст песни Hilltop Hoods - The Calling

Hilltop Hoods - The Calling слова песни

[Verse One - Pressure]For many years I was seeking asylum, in the bleakest environmentsRhyme possessed me, while many started speaking retirementSo as I rose they all fell in the fashion of yelling and trashingFor what it`s worth there was no quelling the passionTheir love was dead, I was writing papes but getting fuck all saidSo I polished my shit until my knuckles bledTreading thin ice and all I caught were chillsSacrifices were appetisers, mics instead of mealsThis hand was mine, so I played it until I made it expand my mindAnd burned my name into the sands of timeThen rhyme gave me strength to less availGot used to these backstabbers, so now I sleep on a bed of nailsI never fail, but turning tides are moving too slowI swam the depths of every ocean just to prove I could flowSo from the cradle to the grave, turntable to Holy FatherI swear I didn`t slit my wrists I got the Hiphop stigmata[Chorus]You got to pray to hip-hop almightyWe bless the microphone nightlyOpen up the lyric from inside meIt`s our calling that`s why we sayYou got to pray to Hiphop almightyWe bless the microphone nightlyOpen up the lyric from inside meIt`s our calling that`s why we say..[Verse Two - Suffa]This be calling, we could never be fakeThanks to Hiphop I got a bed in every stateAnd without it I`d roam the city with no purposeWithout the underground I`m a clown without circusI flip verses, you feeling me, abilitiesMy currency with which I buy credibilityFacilities were built, just to be torn downTill the wheels fall off, and my pencils all worn downTill death comes to collect his debt, I`ll wreck the setWhen heads check in retrospect, I`ll get respectCos I did what I was called to doIt`s Hiphop, I did it all for youWe true to this, got clout on turntables getting playedWe doing this without a label not getting payedSo from the cradle to the grave, microphone to retirement homeI`ll be on stage I`ll never leave the rhyme alone[Chorus][Verse Three - Suffa & Pressure]Either we`re all out, or we`re all inAnd if we fall out, then we`re all fallingIt`s the calling it`s what I hear in my sleepIt`s that shiver up my spine when I`m feeling the beatIt`s that fear of defeat, the need to better myselfIt`s the culture; it`s not about spreading the wealthIt`s forgetting the time when you`re perfecting a rhymeIt`s every drop of sweat that I shed getting mine[Chorus]

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