"1985 (Intro To "The Fall Off”)" lyrics
1985. I arrived
33 years. Damn! I'm grateful I survived
We wasn't supposed to get past 25
Joke's on you, motherfucker. We're alive
All these niggas popping now is young
Everybody say the music that 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 talking like they know something these days
Niggas acting woke
But they broke
Um
I respect the struggle, but you all fronting these days
Man, they're 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 surprised
I ain't tripping. Listen good to my reply
Come here, little man. Let me talk with ya
See if I can paint for you the large 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 touring,"
'Cause that's the way we eat here in this rap game
I'm fucking with your funky little 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're having 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 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 turning up too
You hit the next city, collect your money when it's due
You're getting that paper, swimming in bitches. I don't blame you
You ain't thinking 'bout the people that's looking like me and you
True: you got better shit to do
You coulda bought a crib with all that bread that you done blew
I know you think this type of revenue is never-ending
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 show's looking light 'cause they don't show up
Which, unfortunately, means the money slow up
Now, you're scrambling and hoping to get hot again
But you forgot you only popped 'cause you was riding trends
Now, you're old news and you're going 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 judging you
I'm just telling you what's probably gon' happen when you're rapping
'Bout the type of shit you rapping '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 saying
And you call yourself playing with my name
Then I really know you're 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're gon' be on Love & Hip-Hop
Nigga
33 years. Damn! I'm grateful I survived
We wasn't supposed to get past 25
Joke's on you, motherfucker. We're alive
All these niggas popping now is young
Everybody say the music that 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 talking like they know something these days
Niggas acting woke
But they broke
Um
I respect the struggle, but you all fronting these days
Man, they're 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 surprised
I ain't tripping. Listen good to my reply
Come here, little man. Let me talk with ya
See if I can paint for you the large 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 touring,"
'Cause that's the way we eat here in this rap game
I'm fucking with your funky little 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're having 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 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 turning up too
You hit the next city, collect your money when it's due
You're getting that paper, swimming in bitches. I don't blame you
You ain't thinking 'bout the people that's looking like me and you
True: you got better shit to do
You coulda bought a crib with all that bread that you done blew
I know you think this type of revenue is never-ending
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 show's looking light 'cause they don't show up
Which, unfortunately, means the money slow up
Now, you're scrambling and hoping to get hot again
But you forgot you only popped 'cause you was riding trends
Now, you're old news and you're going 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 judging you
I'm just telling you what's probably gon' happen when you're rapping
'Bout the type of shit you rapping '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 saying
And you call yourself playing with my name
Then I really know you're 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're gon' be on Love & Hip-Hop
Nigga
Writer(s): Jermaine L. Cole
