| I was the nicest for at least the last six months
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| Single went dope, got heavy rotation from Funk Flex
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| and didnt have to ask Stick once
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| Penned flows that was most quoted
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| Kept the toast loaded for magazine critics incase the
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| alleged niggaz ghostwrote it Spit with the armored fist
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| And for a list had no escape route from the slums so round it became an orifice
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| Now I’m eating good and pushing whips
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| Problem is, I’m pussy whipped by a bitch that dropped
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| me same time the label did
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| Album sells wasn’t well, no reach quota
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| So my foundation which was once mentally and
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| financially stable slid
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| Traumas all, was on alchohol plus I done acid
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| Put every egg into one basket
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| Now my mind rages cause imposters of label reps
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| getting gun blasted
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| Won passed it Fuck it, one life, one love, one casket
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| Wound up at the CEO office and blow his flesh of his chest
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| And left that nigga slumped on his office desk
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| My mouth wasn’t built to handle rejection
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| (I'm Fallen)
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| You only fucking with, answer the question
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| (I'm Fallen)
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| Fuck trying to reason with logic
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| Reason with this sixteen shot cartridge holding a label hostage
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| How many are dead?
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| How many gain pieces does he have now?
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| (two, one woman and one man)
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| Now here we go again
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| Another day trying to defend a belief
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| Time to make friends with the beast
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| How many guns he got?
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| Only one’s been shot
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| Let me see his demands
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| And a copy of the foreplans
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| Whats the odds of suicidal?
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| Let’s try to get him on the horn
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| And inform him of my arrival
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| N-n-n-n-n-no no vest
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| I’m going in soft
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| If he’s gonna take my head off then he’s gotta take my head off
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| Now what’s his name?
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| Does he have a family?
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| What’s his background?
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| Did he pick the place randomly?
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| Get his girl on the phone
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| Locate his mom
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| (Move, move, move people now, now)
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| We’re dealing with a time bomb
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| And I’mma take it through the front door
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| Look him in the eyes
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| See if we can make this grown man cry
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| V: Lets sway my options, and put in perspective my postition
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| Stop the mission
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| It’s a straight shot to prison without a pot to piss in Fuck the negotiating, I don’t expect for you cops to listen
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| You probably setting me up to get shot by a sharpshooter from the SWAT devision
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| Tell them bitches I won’t be that easily overthrown
|
| I know they’re listening in on your mobile phone
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| You don’t know my pain, you’re probably living like a king on some noble throne
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| In the suburbs with a fucking Camero and a mobile home
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| All I want is my deal back
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| But the A&R stays put, in turn, I’ll give you the intern
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| S: What’s the catch
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| V: I want an even bigger deal
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| No funny shit cause I’m holding the trigger’s steel
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| and I’ll drop this bitch faster than Jigga did to Mil
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| S: Alright I hear you
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| But still it’s my responsibility
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| To guarentee these hostages are walking out of here with me Your everything is on their safety
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| V: Yo Fuck, that
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| S: Yo, no way around that
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| We’ve got the place surrounded
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| So what’s your call kid
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| Your move, whatchya gonna do?
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| You’ve gotta face the truth
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| (Wait I’ve gotta face the truth)
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| Cause the more I toss it all around my head
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| The more I feel
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| Everything that you said
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| Alright so here’s the fucking deal
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| Gimme the intern
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| Let the A&R burn
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| And as far as I’m concerned this meeting is adjurned
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| The woman and I, we’re about to walk out that door
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| Here’s a handshake soldier cause we both won the war
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| A&R: Wait, Wait, what are you leaving for its your job
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| Come back here
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| V: Naw, fuck that
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| A&R: Wait, wait we can think this up now cause-
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| V: Naw, fuck that, fuck you |