Fall

You know, everybody's been tellin' me what they think about me for the last few months (It's too loud)

Maybe it's time I tell 'em what I think about them

Can't hear it coming down the hallway stairs from the parking lot

It's too loud

Three's not a crowd all up in it, slow fire

Don't fall on my face

Don't fall on my faith, oh

Don't fall on my fate

Don't fall on my faith, oh

Don't fall on my fate

Don't fall on my-

Gotta concentrate against the clock, I race

Got no time to waste, I'm already late

I got a marathoner's pace

Went from addict to a workaholic

Word to Dr. Dre in that first marijuana tape

Guess I got a chronic case

And I ain't just blowin' smoke

'Less it's in your mama's face

I know this time Paul and Dre, they won't tell me what not to say

And though me and my party days have all pretty much parted ways

You'd swear to God I forgot I'm the guy that made "Not Afraid"

One last time for Charlamagne

If my response is late, it's just how long it takes

To hit my fucking radar, I'm so far away

These rappers are like Hunger Games

One minute, they're mocking Jay

Next minute, they get their style from Migos, till they copy Drake

Maybe I just don't know when to turn around and walk away

But all the hate, I call it "Walk on Water-gate"

I've had as much as I can tolerate

I'm sick and tired of waiting

Now I done lost my patience

I can take all of you motherfuckers on at once

You wanted Shady, you got it

Don't fall on my face (Yeah)

Don't fall on my faith, oh

Don't fall on my fate (Line 'em up)

Don't fall on my faith, oh

Don't fall on my fate (Ha)

Somebody tell Budden before I snap, he better fasten it

Or have his body bag get zipped

The closest thing he's had to hits is smackin' bitches

And don't make me have to give it back to Akademiks

Say this shit is trash again, I'll have you twisted like you had it

When you thought you had me slippin' at the telly

Even when I'm gettin' brain, you'll never catch me with a thot

Lacking with it, "He ain't spittin' like this on his last shit"

Ho, you better go back and listen

You know me better, thinkin' I'll slow or let up

Call it trap 'cause it's a total setup

Hopin' that you rappers fall in that

Dre said, "Hold your head up"

Kathy Griffin, stackin' ammunition

Slap the clip and cock it back on competition

This is how I shot ahead (Pew)

Gabby Gifford, my attack is vicious

Jack The Ripper, back in business

Tyler create nothing

I see why you called yourself a ****, bitch

It's not just 'cause you lack attention

It's because you worship D12's balls, you're sack-rilegious

If you're gonna critique me, you better at least be as good or better

Get Earl, the Hooded Sweater, whatever his name is

To help you put together some words more than just two letters

The fans waited for this moment

Like that feature when I stole the show

Sorry, if I took forever

Don't fall on my face (Yeah)

Don't fall on my faith, oh (I won't)

Don't fall on my fate (Line 'em up)

Don't fall on my faith, oh

Don't fall on my fate

It's too easy

Just remember, I was here before you

And I'll be here after you, make your run-in for you

Detract this, I'ma have to fuck Pitchfork with a corkscrew

Just what the doctor ordered

Revenge is the best medicine, increase the dose

From least to most, and then tell the Grammys to go and fuck themselves

They suck the blood from all the biggest artists like some leeches

So they nominate 'em, get 'em there, get a name to 'em

See the show, every parasite needs a host

Then give Album of the Year to somebody that no one's ever even heard of

All I know is I wrote every single word of everything I ever murdered

Time to separate the sheep from G.O.A.Ts

And I got no faith in your writers, I don't believe in ghosts

When rap needed it most, I was that that wing and a prayer

A beacon of hope, put a B-I-R-D in the air

Somewhere, some kid is bumping this while he lip-syncs in the mirror

That's who I'm doing it for, the rest I don't really even care

But you would think I'm carrying an Oxford Dictionary in my pocket

How I'm buryin' these artists, on a scale of turnt, you're minus

Mine says "Very," yours says, "Hardly"

And what's scary is you probably can compare me to your car

'Cause I'm just barely gettin' started (Woo)

And far as Lord Jamar, you better leave me the hell alone

Or I'll show you an Elvis clone

Walk up in this house you own, thrust my pelvic bone

Use your telephone, then go fetch me the remote

Put my feet up and just make myself at home

I belong here, clown, don't tell me 'bout the culture

I inspired the Hopsins, the Logics, the Coles

The Seans, the K-Dots, the 5'9"s

And, oh, brought the world 50 Cent

You did squat, piss and moaned

But I'm not gonna fall, bitch!

It's too loud

Can't hear it coming down the hallway stairs from the parking lot

It's too loud

Three's not a crowd all up in it, slow fire