| The show, the show, it must go on
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| The show, the show, it must go on
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| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
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| I will not, I will rock
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| The show, the show, it must go on
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| The show, the show, it must go on
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| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
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| I will not, I will rock the show
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| Uh, and I’m still the one
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| Am I a poet or a prophet or a stone to build upon?
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| And what’s the reason I still perform? |
| Feed my children on
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| How I’m on a hustle from dusk 'till dawn
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| Where all the love and the trust is gone
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| My eyes wider than a baby that just was born
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| Fightin' a war they ain’t pay me enough to join
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| Behind a phrase they was crazy enough to coin
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| You kiddin' me? |
| The pursuit of happiness, life, liberty
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| And all type of necessities they not givin' me
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| I put my body in jeopardy 'cause I’m committed
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| Even though they try to stifle your man creativity
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| They got hopes and plans of gettin' rid of me
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| I hit 'em like Ethiopia hit up Italy
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| Swift as the bullet that killed King and Kennedy
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| You know the battle is off to infinity now
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| The show, the show, it must go on
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| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
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| I will not, I will rock
|
| The show, the show, it must go on
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| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
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| I will not, I will rock the show
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| I remember The Show like Doug E. where people quiet was ugly
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| Yellin', «Get money», now we’re showin', we’re dummy
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| Still doin' shows where the spots be bummy
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| Roaches in the dressin' room, I’m thinkin' of a better room
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| Maybe The Upper, where my people won’t suffer
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| The leather gets tougher, we drive like a trucker through the night
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| For every wrong, makin' two rights
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| And use mics to reach new heights, the blue lights
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| Follow, I guess it’s the scent of Chicago
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| That make 'em wanna mess with my tomorrow
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| In these borrowed days, the rhyme and the mind that pays
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| The world is a show, you define your stage
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| One, two, it’s live so you can’t undo
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| No sleep 'cause then your dreams won’t come true
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| And every one’s like a broad that we run through
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| Each finger, this ain’t gonn' stop so we just gonn' continue
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| The show, the show, it must go on
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| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
|
| I will not, I will rock
|
| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
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| I will not, I will rock the show
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| The Ernest Hemingway of B-boy poems
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| They can never take the pen away and leave Roy Jones
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| Pushing a black in a new time zone
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| Nigga knowin' every nuance wit' two eyes closed
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| The life I chose, more of a mission
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| I make a crowd convulse and act on impulse and intuition
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| I’ve seen the future, listen, believe the superstition
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| I keep spittin' 'til it’s a truce or crucifixion
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| I’m at home in the pressure zone, weakness is never shown
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| Let alone I’m a man made of mere flesh and bone
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| I can’t help that my heart beat as a metronome
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| And I’ve acquired a taste that’s upper echelon
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| Lyrical professional, maniac megalo
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| Plate in my head that spin the way the record go
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| And break it down like it’s the walls of Jericho
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| If they don’t know by know they prob’ly never know
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| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
|
| I will not, I will rock
|
| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| The show, the show, it must go on
|
| I can’t stop, I won’t stop
|
| I will not, I will rock the show
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| The show, the show |