Under Pressure is a popular rap song by Queen & David Bowie from the 1982 album Hot Space. Check words to Queen & David Bowie Under Pressure Lyrics in English below.
Under Pressure Lyrics – Queen & David Bowie
[Produced by Logic]
[Intro]
Dog ’round—from a—from a—dog ’round—once a
Dog ’round—from a—from a—dog ’round—once a
Dog ’round—from a—from a—dog ’round—once a
Dog ’round—from a—from a—dog ’round—
[Chorus]
Work so fucking much, my greatest fear is I’ma die alone
Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that’s a milestone (I’m lovin’ it!)
People calling me, askin’ me for money, man (Uh)
The only thing I’ma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone (Yeah)
[Verse 1]
Flashbacks of a youngin’ sippin’ that purple Kool-Aid
Skippin’ school with my homies and chiefing reefer for two days
Running from the law, livin’ how I’m livin’, fuck ’em all
Bumping Triple Six
Hennessy in my cup, drivin’ through the sticks
Who the bitch ridin’ with me?
Man, the devil tryna get me
Motivated, under-educated, and hated
But finally gettin’ cake like a happy belated
Bitch I made it, we on
Buy it, break it, roll it, light it, smoke it, inhale it
Write it, record it, mix it, master it, press it up, unveil it
Feel like I’ve been waitin’ forever, forever to inherit
This is war, I declare it
Time is money, I can’t spare it
Futuristic, so simplistic
Please decipher my linguistics
Slow it down, Robitussin
I’m the king, ain’t no discussion
And now we blowin’ up like spontaneous human combustion
My consumption is the illest
Section eight, I know you feel this
On the come up, where they run up on you for nothin’ at all
Brighter than eleven suns, this the first, where my funds?
EBT, that’s the card
I thank God, I thank God, but it’s hard
Uh, but it’s hard
[Chorus]
Uh, work so fuckin’ much, my greatest fear is I’ma die alone
Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that’s a milestone
People callin’ me, askin’ me for money, man
The only thing I’ma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone
[Verse 2]
God damn, god damn, we at it again
Me and my homies that know me blowing up like the Taliban
Yeah, my stress up, but I’m blessed up
Fuck around and get messed up
When I murder the rhyme, I’m livin’ divine
You know that I’m one of a kind
Lemme get it right now, ho
Draped up and I’m dripped out (And I’m dripped out)
Right now, ho
Caked up ’til I cash out and I got ’em all wonderin’, “How so?”
On the down low, haters drown slow
On the down low, haters drown slow
Oh God, my God, we got it all right
Oh God, my God, we gotta get it, right?
These fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right?
I said these fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right?
Uh, tell me that they love me
Know damn well that they don’t give a fuck
I be on that finger-flippin’ killin’ shit up in the cut
That’s what’s up
All these bitches out here tryna gas it up
This is everything I ever wanted, I can’t pass it up
Life changed in a year, couldn’t happen fast enough
“Can I do it like you do it?” That’s what they be askin’ us
White Benz, black card, bitch better get your plastic up
Man, this shit is hella hard, but we never actin’ up
Live it up, hold on to your dream, don’t ever give it up
Finally had my share of success, and shit, I can’t get enough
Now they know my name through the nation
‘Cause my single like that good shit, man, always in rotation
Now they know Logic for Logic, not through my affiliations
Stackin’ profit on profit, from this music I’m makin’
Even Jesus had haters, so when you feelin’ forsaken
Tell ’em jealous Judases who this is, and man, that’ll break ’em
And bitch, I’m still the same
Dash of autotune so y’all can feel the pain
Broke as fuck, back in that basement, not a dollar to my name
Chasin’ fame, chasin’ glory, ’til the day we make a story
Positive that life ain’t mine, bitch you can take that shit to Maury
[Chorus]
Work so fuckin’ much, my greatest fear is I’ma die alone
Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that’s a milestone
People callin’ me, askin’ me for money, man
The only thing I’ma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone
[Verse 3]
(Hello, no one is available to take your call)
I been workin’ hard, I been searchin’ for God
I been workin’ hard, I been searchin’ for God
(Please leave a message after the tone)
Little brother, this is yo’ sister, you’re busy, I get you
But I insist you call me back ’cause I miss you
I wish you well, well, I wish you would call
‘Cause lately it feel like I’m just not yo’ sister at all—all
Uh, I’m sorry for callin’ and bawlin’, I’m all in
And I feel like I’m fallin’ lately, it feel like my children hate me
You tell me I’m beautiful and yet no man wanna date me
Haunted by vivid memories of that man who raped me
And lately I, I feel more and more like mommy, I know I’m me, but still
You always seemed to pick up the phone and somehow I feel
Better, but you been answerin’ me lesser and lesser
So I resorted to the pills in my dresser, I’m gone
And as for… oh no, he left and he ain’t comin’ back
I hate him and if I see him I swear I tell him that
No longer cookin’ crack in my kitchen, cuttin’ an’ sellin’ that
He broke my heart, that relationship been to hell and back
I been workin’ hard, I been searchin’ for God
I can feel the Devil around me as they all applaud
Promise you won’t forget me, that you’ll always be wit’ me
And even when you gone I can call whenever he hit me
Under pressure, I’ve been feeling under pressure
[Verse 4]
Hey, son, this is your father, don’t mean to bother
How are you? Heard you were in town, but I never saw ya
Tried to call ya, where are ya?
In Paris? What a beautiful destination
To perish right by the Eiffel, come now
Please don’t be spiteful of all my small talk
I think we’re overdue a long talk
When I see kids around the way, I say how I’m your dad
It gets me thinkin’ ’bout incredible moments we’ve had
And on the real, I’m tryin’ so hard not to bug you
But do you think you could stop rappin’ about my drug use?
I’m two years clean, no longer a fiend
Yeah, I’m 57, but I feel 19
And I love you I swear, Bobby, I know you’re there
And when the time is right I know that you gon’ take care
Of anything I need, of yo’ family
Can I have some tickets to your next show?
Would you stand wit’ me?
Can I have some money for my new honey that’s hella fine?
I forgot to mention I got divorced from yo’ step-mom
My mind goin’ crazy, but I still look hella calm
Maybe you could tell *beep*
I’ve been feelin’ under pressure
[Interlude]
Hey, what’s up, bro? This Ralph, I didn’t want much, man, just calling to see what’s going on. I know you’re busy. Uh, Dad hit me up, it’s his birthday today, but I know you know that. Uh, yeah, he calling, he be tryna introduce me to his new chick and stuff, man, I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t wanna tell him like nah, I ain’t trying to meet her off top, you know? So what you think I should do? Text me, I know you’re busy, dawg. But he been callin’ me saying he wanna come down, he wanna bring his new chick and Brenda’s like “Damn, he really tryna rock out with his new chick” ’cause you know we all fuck with Debbie. But I don’t know, I don’t know how to tell him this shit so just hit me back whenever you got the time, man, I know there’s more shit on your plate. You ain’t—you ain’t gotta hit me, dawg, but if you do I’d appreciate it. When you back, love you, do your thing. Swag RattPack all day, boy. Alright, nigga, hit me
[Verse 5]
Uh, yeah, dear family, I’m so sorry that I’ve been distant
Everything changed in an instant, my time has been inconsistent
I know that you been insistin’, I know that birthday I missed it
I swore I told my assistant, but I guess my mind is in another place
Thoughts off in another world, I started seein’ another girl
It fell through, man, what a world
But I’m so focused on my craft, on employin’ my staff
Such a perfectionist, I can’t even finish this draft
This letter to the ones I love, the ones that I miss
Brothers and sisters that hit me up just to reminisce
Meanwhile, people outside of my blood askin’ for favors
I don’t owe you a fuckin’ thing, you best switch yo’ behavior
Truly remarkable how I barely know you, but somehow owe you When you don’t even know ’bout the shit I go through, uh
We ain’t spoken in a while, tell me sister, how yo’ child?
Come now, girl, give me a smile, come on, girl, don’t do me foul
Sorry I ain’t call before, but I’m callin’ you right n
Writer(s): Logic, No I.D. (Ernest Wilson)