For many years i was seeking asylum
In the bleakest environment its rhyme possessed me where manny started
Speaking retirement so whats the rose that your feeling of fashion
Of yellin and trashin for what its worth there was no quellin the passion
In love was dead I wanted pace we get it luck'll said
And so i polished my shit until my knuckles bled
Treadin thin ice n all i caught were chills
Sacrifices were appertisers mic just said a mills
It's hand was mine silver plated till i made it expand
Mmind i burnt my name into the sands of time
The rhyme gave me strength to less avail
Get used to these backstabbers so now i sleep on a bed of nails
I never fail but turnin tides are moving too slow
I swept the depths of ever ocean just to prove i could flow
So from the cradle to the grave to table to holy fathers
Where i didn't slit my wrist i got the hiphop stigmata's
You've got to pray
To hiphop almighty
We bless the microphone nightly
Open up the lyric from inside me
It's our calling its what we say
You've got to pray/this is the calling
We can never be fake
Thanks to hiphop i got a bed in every state
And without it i'd roam the city with no purpose
Without the underground ima clown without a circus
I flip verses your 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
To death comes to collect his debt or wreck the set
When heads checkin retrospect i'll get respect
cuz i did what i was told to do
It's hiphop i did it all for you
We true to this got cloud on ta-tables getting played
We doing this without a label not getting paid
So from the cradle to the grave microphone to retirement home
I'll be on stage, i'll never leave the mic alone
You've got to pray
To hiphop almighty
We bless the microphone nightly
Open up the lyric from insid
