RJD2 Final Frontier (f. Soul Position) Lyrics
            [Blueprint]
            Yeah, what up
            {*"The show is over"*}
            Welcome to the final frontier
            Soul Position
            RJD2 on the beats plus myself, Blueprint, on the rhymes
            {*"The show is over"*}
            Live and direct
        
            [Chorus]
            We're here {*"The show is over"*}
            The Final Frontier
            We're here {*"The show is over"*}
            The Final Frontier
        
            [Verse 1]
            We breathe adrenaline, elevate organically
            Life begins when the record spins and ends
            When blended into the next with scratches
            RJ constructs the canvas, I find a color that matches
            Outline the rhyme and increase the content
            Blueprint the piece that completes the concepts
            Sequence the song steps to make it more complex
            Soul Position in, sole possession of
            Poll position, hold your breath and listen
            While I resurrect these twenty-six letters
            A lesson to beginners that tend to pale in comparisson
            You're not ill, and if you are
            My notepad's full of medicine
            Plus my freestyle is Excedrin
            Take two hours and call me back with a new style
            And show me you're prepared for the final frontier
        
            [Chorus]
        
            [Verse 2]
            We breathe adrenaline, elevate organically
            My pen like a turntable arm moves mechanically
            Even when the groove shifts or skips dramatically
            I accurately etch out my welded fine fantasy
            Across a skyline covered with sound
            I move into position like a c__ulus cloud
            Acid rain slang still a part of my emosis
            My first demo, known to soak instrumentals
            With brainstorms, capable to break in the calm
            Created by strange tongues that praise the norm
            But while they make a living giving false testimony
            I often impress the ceremony with an exercise in exorcism
            First I ride the rhythm, then I spit a venomous
            Open mic sermon for the trife vermon
            That had a hard time learnin'
            How to properly prepare for the final frontier
        
            [Chorus]
        
            [Verse 3]
            We breathe adrenaline, elevate organically
            Escaping out of milk crates with modern-day tragedies
            Of lost verse, or crews you coulda looped first
            But refuse to do the work when the whistle blew
            So in a world dominated by the digital
            The metrinome I listen to beats inside of my chest
            It speeds up with a level of stress
            It's built to last, but a___og at best
            Ingest another measurement of time served
            My lifeline swerves kinda like a signed curve
            Time blurs, during my breakneck ascend
            To apex and then slows during my lows
            Tone-deaf soundmen work my shows
            The a__ of my artform's always exposed
            But I'm inspired by the front rows
            They're the reason I prepared for the final frontier
        
            [Chorus]
        
            {*"The show is over"*}
            {*"The show is over"*}
            {*"The show is over"*}
        
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