1985 - Intro to “The Fall Off”

1985, I arrived
33 years, damn, I'm grateful I survived
We wasn't s'posed to get past 25
Jokes on you motherfucker, we alive

All these niggas popping now is young
Everybody say the music they make is dumb
I remember I was 18
Money, pussy, parties, I was on the same thing

You gotta give a boy a chance to grow some
Everybody talkin' like they know somethin' these days
Niggas actin' woke, but they broke, umm
I respect the struggle but you all frontin' these days

Man, they barely old enough to drive
To tell them what they should do, who the fuck am I?
I heard one of em' dissed me, I'm suprised
I ain't trippin', listen good to my reply

Come here lil' man, let me talk with ya'
See if I can paint for you the larger picture
Congrats 'cause you made it out your mama's house
I hope you make enough to buy your mom a house

I see your watch icy and your whip foreign
I got some good advice, never quit tourin'
'Cause that's the way we eat here in this rap game
I'm fuckin' with your funky lil' rap name

I hear your music and I know that rap's changed
A bunch of folks would say that that's a bad thing
'Cause everything's commercial and it's pop now
Trap drums is the shit that's hot now

See, I've been on a quest for the next wave
But never mind, that was just a segue
I must say, by your songs I'm unimpressed, hey
But I love to see a Black man get paid

And plus, you havin' fun and I respect that
But have you ever thought about your impact?
These white kids love that you don't give a fuck
'Cause that's exactly what's expected when your skin's black

They wanna see you dab, they wanna see you pop a pill
They wanna see you tatted from your face to your heels
And somewhere deep down, fuck it, I gotta keep it real
They wanna be black and think your song is how it feels

So when you turn up, you see them turnin' up too
You hit the next city, collect your money when it's due
You gettin' that paper, swimmin' in bitches, I don't blame you
You ain't thinkin' 'bout the people that's lookin' like me and you

True, you got better shit to do
You coulda bought a crib with all that bread you done blew
I know you think this type of revenue is never endin'
But I wanna take a minute just to tell you that ain't true

One day, them kids that's listening gon' grow up
And get too old for that shit that made you blow up
Now your shows lookin' light cause they don't show up
Which unfortunately means the money slow up

Now you scramblin' and hopin' to get hot again
But you forgot you only popped 'cause you was ridin' trends
Now you old news and you goin' through regrets
'Cause you never bought that house, but you got a Benz

And a bunch of jewels and a bunch of shoes
And a bunch of fake friends, I ain't judgin' you
I'm just tellin' you what's probably gon' happen when you rappin'
'Bout the type of shit you rappin' 'bout

It's a faster route to the bottom
I wish you good luck
I'm hoping for your sake that you ain't dumb as you look
But if it's really true what people sayin'

And you call yourself playin' with my name
Then I really know you fucked, trust
I'll be around forever 'cause my skills is tip-top
To any amateur niggas that wanna get rocked
Just remember what I told you when your shit flop
In five years you gon' be on Love & Hip-Hop, nigga



Credits
Writer(s): Jermaine L. Cole
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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