1985 (intro To "the Fall Off") Lyrics - J. Cole

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 

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